Patchwork Wishes
by DracaDelirus
Summary: AU Harry Potter's Holidays: Little Harry wants his Christmas wish to come true this year. Maybe if he makes his own lucky angel it will. But can his luck hold out for the rest of the holidays? Maybe if he wishes very hard...
1. A Patchwork Quilt

**A Patchwork ****Quilt  
(or Arabella's Grand Adventure)**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Harry Potter world or anything else that may seem familiar. I don't own anything at all.

Author: written by DracaDelirus

Dedication: for 'Mom' aka 'Mrs. Arabella Doreen Figg', for all you've done for me. It doesn't even begin to repay but it's a start, a HP version of our bicycle adventure. I'll always remember, and thank you from the bottom of my heart and Happy Mother's Day!

Explanation: Mrs. Figg said all the little stories were quite nice but that it was just too bad Arabella wasn't in any of them. Mrs. Figg likes Arabella a lot :) So since I wanted to write something for Mrs. Figg for Mother's Day, and Mrs. Figg was wishing for Arabella, and I didn't think it would fit to do Arabella after the other ones, I set this one in the Spring before the Christmas Angel one – so when Harry was eight instead of nine. So since this story is really a prequel to the rest that I already posted, I put it first instead of last. And I know the poem isn't a wish like the other ones, but in its own way, it is. (Apologies again if I posted this the wrong way, and if this is against any FF rules please let me know so that I can fix it.)

Special Message: thank you annajesse65230 for your suggestions! :)

_My Teacher_

_She taugh__t me as much as she could cram  
into my head, until it swam.  
She taught me that there is more to me  
than I ever thought there could ever be._

_Upon her model__, I just have to look  
to learn more than from a "How-To" book.  
She showed me through her example  
"How-To-Survive-Life" lessons ample._

_She taught me that whe__re empathy blooms  
in your heart you can always find room.  
She taught me that if you just believe  
there is hope for even someone like me._

_She taught me that family is defined  
by your heart and not by your mind.  
My teacher, my confidant, my friend,  
She taught me that a broken soul can mend._

_She taught me lessons I needed to learn  
with kindness, gentleness, and concern  
and with her loving strength of will,  
my Mom is teaching me ever still_

_- Happy Mother's Day!-  
DracaDelirus_

**Patchwork**** Quilt Patchwork QuiltliuQ krowhctaP tliuQ krowhctaP**

"Ugh! Gerroff me!" Harry's muffled shouts could be heard coming from underneath the hulking lump that was his cousin Dudley. Dudley, grinning from ear to ear, totally ignored the plea until his mother poked her head out his upstairs bedroom window.

"Dudley! What's keeping you?" Petunia Dursley called down to her son. Then taking in the scene unfolding in the garden below, she screeched in horror.

"You! You ungrateful little freak! Get back to work and let go of my precious angel! Diddydums get away from him right now, or he might make you ill! You never know where he might have been," she added disdainfully. "You don't want to catch something right as we are leaving for Holiday. Now come up and see if I left anything out. I can run to the store and buy you another suitcase if you want to take anything else."

"It's Harry's fault! He was trying to touch my bike," Dudley answered back automatically, thumping Harry one last time on the head before doing as his mother asked.

"Too bad you can't come too freak. I could've had a lot of fun burying you in the sand. I might have even left your head out if you begged me real nice."

"Yeah, I'm sure you would have Dud ... if you could have figured out how to use the shovel." Harry retorted under his breath behind Dudley's retreating back.

He found out long ago that if he was going to talk back to any of the Dursleys that it was much better to do it quietly enough so that they couldn't hear him, and calling Dudley 'Dud' was about as rebellious as Harry felt it safe enough to go, still being within arms reach. However, it was not without its own small satisfaction when he did, as Dudley hated being called 'a dud'. He took it as a personal affront to his intelligence. He hated it even more than all the sickening sweet babyish knick names his mother called him.

"Whad' you call me?" Dudley looked back threateningly.

"I didn't call you anything. I _said _… I'm sure you'll have_ fun_. And I'm sorry if I caused you any _trouble_."

"Okay then, just quit touching my stuff." Dudley begrudgingly accepted the apology and then at his mother's repeated calls, went into the house slamming the screen door behind him, leaving Harry alone in the garden.

"And you –," Aunt Petunia stuck her head back out and yelled shrilly at Harry. "Why haven't you finished cutting the grass boy?"

Harry didn't bother to answer, as he knew his aunt would supply her own. She did.

"You're a worthless layabout that's why! You've had an hour! And pack the suitcases in the boot! What are you waiting for? Hurry up now! You're making us late! And don't forget to bring my precious angel a snack. He's looking a might peckish. You've probably contaminated him."

"Yes, Ma'am. Right now, Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am. Didn't mean to breath, Ma'am." Harry muttered as he started rolling the push mower over the lawn. His relatives were getting ready to leave on a family holiday to the seashore, and one thing after another had delayed them. With the blame for all the delays placed squarely on his thin shoulders.

Apparently, he had super powers of which he knew not, because according to his uncle he had the super power to redirect electricity with mere thought, causing all the alarm clocks to malfunction while he remained locked in his cupboard under the stairs. Also according to his aunt, he had the super strength of ten men because he was able to hold Dudley down, and so preventing him from helping with the packing, while Dudley was sitting on top of him.

Neat trick.

However right now Harry just wished he had the super power to make them finish packing and then go. Go far, far, away, and not come back. It wasn't that he didn't want a family. He wished more than anything in the world that he had one, but the Dursleys had made it abundantly clear that they would never welcome him as part of theirs.

Harry didn't think it was too much to ask for at least one person in the world to care about him just a little. He supposed that he did have that, though not in the normal way, but then when had his life ever been normal? He did have to admit that his aunt was_ terribly_ concerned about him. Only Harry knew it was that wasn't his welfare about which she was terribly concerned.

She wasn't worried that he might starve, locked up in his cupboard alone while they were gone on holiday, or that if the house burned down that he wouldn't be able to escape to safety. If that were a worry at all, she wouldn't have let Uncle Vernon repeatedly lock him in before while they were out. No, she was worried that he would use his super powers to somehow free himself, and be set loose to rifle through her dainties, break all of Dudley's toys, well the ones that Dudley hadn't already broken his self, and then run amok in the pantry eating them out of house and home. Oh yes, she was terribly concerned about him.

Harry was just grateful that all this terrible concern made his Aunt finally decided against her usual remedy for his unruliness, of a second lock on his cupboard door, in favour of pressing him upon an unsuspecting neighbour to look after instead.

From experience, he knew he could handle one or two days in his cupboard when forced to. But a whole week? One of his greatest fears was being locked in his cupboard and then forgotten and left to die, and the option of actually taking him with them to the seashore had never even crossed the Dursley's minds. Therefore, in Harry's book, staying at Mrs. Figg's was a million times better that the only other alternative - even if Mrs. Figg was a little strange, and even if her house smelled of cats.

After Harry finished cutting the grass, he pushed the mower back into the shed and looked longingly one more time at the shiny red bicycle hanging from hooks high up on the wall. It was calling to him, almost as if it were alive. It needed a rider as much as he needed to ride it. It _wanted_ him to ride it. It was almost _demanding_ that he ride it. When he jumped real high, he could touch the tires.

Sadly, he turned his back on it. Trying to shut its pleading calls out of his mind, he firmly closed the shed door. Going round to the front, he started loading the Dursley's suitcases into the boot of the car. When he ran out of room, he tied the remainder on top. The way they packed you'd have thought they were going to be gone a month instead of just a week. Dudley had five suitcases just for his toys.

Up two streets and around the corner Arabella Doreen Figg put down her teacup. Stroking her cat Tufty, who had curled up comfortably in her lap, she sighed to herself. She had been stuck in Little Whinging for seven and a half years now, three quarters of a decade. Not that she really minded, after all it _was _a super secret important job she was doing for Albus Dumbledore, she just wished it were a little less super secret so that she could brag about it a little. Every spring when she went home for a visit, her brothers were all 'poor little Arabella this' and 'poor little Arabella that'. Poor little mousy Arabella, the squib who received barely enough magic to see what she was missing out on, but not enough to do anything about it.

Since they were children, her brothers would go off on grand magical adventures that never included her. After they grew into adults, their bragging was even worse. They were so full of themselves that it was a wonder she wasn't as bitter as Petunia Dursley.

Petunia and Arabella shared similar childhood experiences only in Petunia's case it was her younger sister Lily born with magic into a previously all muggle home, instead of, as in Arabella's case, the only one born virtually without magic into an all magic household. She and Petunia, so similar, and yet complete opposites in every way possible.

This year when Arabella went home for her visit, she wanted it to be different. She didn't want to spend her visit, listening to stories of their adventures while they gave her condescending looks of pity. She wanted an adventure of her own of which to brag. However once again, all she had done was raise her cats, and spy on her neighbours.

The first activity, cross breeding Kneazles, her brothers could care less about. The last, being a spy for Albus Dumbledore - Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Founder of the Order of the Phoenix, and best of all Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the prestigious school her brothers had attended, a person that they both admired with reverence and awe, her 'boss' to whom she had sworn to keep the secret – would make her brothers drop dead jealous of her, but she couldn't say a word.

Rats!

Normally every year during this week of May, Arabella went back to Hogsmeade for her family visit. Only this year, not so regrettably considering her current mood, she had to postpone. Instead, she was going to be watching the Dursley's nephew, Harry Potter, while they took their son Dudley to the seashore for holiday.

The Dursleys had said that they didn't want to ruin 'ickle' Dudley's trip by having his ill-tempered cousin tagging along. They further claimed that Harry had fussed that he refused to go with them, and had pleaded for them to leave him with the crazy cat lady.

There wasn't a lot for an eight-almost-nine-year-old to do at her house, other than look at photo albums of her cats, so to choose staying with her - over a holiday at the seashore, made Arabella shake her head in wonder. What sane child would do that?

However, when she really thought about it she couldn't blame Harry for his choice. His relatives really were the worst sort of muggles imaginable, and weren't terribly terrific to have as neighbours either. They were always complaining about something, usually about either Harry or about her cats.

But as watching out for Harry _was_ the super secret mission she was doing for Dumbledore, she couldn't very well say 'no' to any opportunity to watch him up close and personal, however unexpected it might be. And unexpected it was, as the Dursleys had never left Harry with her for an entire week before.

In fact, it was only once a year on Dudley's birthday, that they ever left him with anyone. Petunia said she only left him on those occasions because Harry was a very jealous boy, and she didn't want him throwing a fit over the attention Dudley received and spoiling the party for her son.

However, Arabella had little doubt in her mind that Dudley would throw the temper tantrum, if his cousin were to be included, not the other way around. It seemed as if Petunia had passed on the prejudice she felt for her younger sister Lily to her son, and now Dudley treated his younger cousin in the same contemptuous manner.

Arabella also realized that Petunia had little respect for her personally, and that she considered making Harry stay with her, instead of including him in Dudley's birthday party, as a punishment for the little boy. From the few hours each year that she had Harry alone, and could observe him in an unguarded moment, she also suspected that Petunia feared leaving him with anyone else in case he 'talked' about how they were neglecting him to someone that the muggle authorities would actually take seriously.

Petunia needn't have worried in that regard. Even though Arabella prodded and pushed, and gave Harry every opportunity, she couldn't get him to admit a thing. He never complained - not once. Besides, Arabella also knew that she had the reputation around the neighbourhood of being a trifle barmy. She even prided herself on the eccentric 'cover' she had built for her per secret mission.

Growing up she had noticed people tended to purposely ignore those who were 'different', so she went out of her way to appear daft and peculiar at every opportunity, even to the point of wearing her carpet slippers to shop at the corner store.

What better cover to nose about, than to be someone that everyone avoided? It was no wonder that now Petunia considered her little threat to the Dursley's reputation and good standing in the community. If it came down to it, with Harry not talking, it would be her word against theirs, and they would win.

No one would believe it if the neighbourhood-crazy-cat-lady claimed that Harry was being mistreated. That was one thing that she hadn't considered when choosing her super secret cover story, because it never occurred to her at the time that Harry Potter's relatives would be anything but loving to such a sweet baby.

Arabella had thought it was just the threats from outside Number 4 Privet Drive from which she would need to be on guard. She never thought the greater threat might be from within. Only that was before she moved into the neighbourhood and got to know them for the truly dreadful people they were.

Therefore, when the Dursley's called her at the last minute to ask if she could watch Harry for them, even though they must have known for weeks ahead of time that they would need a sitter, she set aside her own plans and prepared the guest room for him. It wasn't very lavish, but she gave it a quick once over with the duster and fluffed up a pillow. Taking an appraising look around her at the somewhat spartan room, she noted that there was still a slight chill to the air.

Harry would need a quilt. She sighed and pulled a quilt out of the trunk to air out on the clothesline before putting it on the bed. It was a pretty patchwork quilt, a simple nine-patch pattern set on point, sewn together of delicate cotton prints.

Fingering the stitching she thought back to when she they had first given it to her many years ago. It had been almost a decade, and she had never used it. At the time, the reason for it had made her angry, even though she knew they had meant to do the exact opposite.

Ten years ago, her husband, her Angus had died in the war against the Dark Lord. He was a muggle, not even part of the war, but Death Eaters had slaughtered him anyway. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She lost her strong, gentle, loving Angus, and in his place, they had given her a quilt - as if it could keep her warm in his place.

Arabella had kept it only because several of the members of the fledgling Order of the Phoenix had made it at Molly Weasley's suggestion. She could tell that they had constructed it with the very best of intentions, and with abundant love - proof being that to honour Angus, they had pieced the quilt together entirely by hand, in the muggle way.

Among the ones who helped Molly worked on it, was a lovely young newlywed named Lily Potter. It was ironic that Lily had been part of its creation so long ago to help her through her grief, and now instead, it would keep Lily's own son warm under her roof.

Finishing up the room, Arabella poured another cup of tea to calm her nerves. She and Angus had never had children and now she was wondering what in the world to do with the little boy for an entire week to keep him entertained. Petunia had assured her that Harry didn't need entertained, that he was to do chores for her to pay her for her kindness. Arabella snorted to herself, it was more because Petunia was too cheap to pay her real money for babysitting.

While Petunia expounded on the virtues of having children work hard, Arabella nodded but silently disagreed. She thought about going out and buying some games or toys for him. However, she was afraid to make it too much fun, for fear Petunia may decide that staying with her was no longer a punishment and so never let him do it again.

Even though it was only for a few hours once a year, Arabella always felt relieved when Harry showed up at her door. As it was the only time that she was reasonably sure that he was still in one piece. And during those few hours she did her best to undo the three hundred and sixty four days and eighteen hours of damage that living with the Dursley's had done the since the last time she had him.

Getting up, Arabella went to the sink to wash out her teacup, but as she reached to turn on the tap, she noticed the unusual pattern in the bottom. The tea leaves formed spokes radiating out from the centre. Mesmerized by the image it almost looked as though the wheel was starting to turn when the doorbell rang.

Startled, Arabella almost dropped the fragile cup. Her heart beating fast she put it down and went to answer the door. Her young houseguest had finally arrived on her doorstep, out of breath, sweaty, grass stains on his knees, and with a small brown paper bag clutched in his hands.

"Sorry I'm late Mrs. Figg! Dudley sneezed so Aunt Petunia had to take him to the doctor before they left," he explained in a rush.

"Was he sick?" she opened the door to let him in as the beat of her heart slowed down.

"No." Harry smirked a little before trying to hide it, "I put pepper on his biscuits and he inhaled them so fast he didn't notice. Ha-ha! Except for the sneezing fit that is."

"You know that was wrong, don't you?"

"Yes Ma'am." Harry nodded guiltily.

"Don't you remember what I told you last year?"

"The pepper goes in the tea."

"That's my boy. Get it right the next time. Any prank worth doing, is worth being noticed."

"Yes Ma'am!" Harry grinned, a warm feeling washing over him at the words 'my boy'.

"Did you bring your pyjamas and toothbrush? I don't see a suitcase. Is it on the porch?"

"No, Ma'am!" Harry laughed at the thought of owning a suitcase, let alone owning anything to pack in it. "I have it all right here," he said holding up the small grease stained sack. He had packed a second overly large t-shirt castoff of Dudley's to sleep in, and a used toothbrush salvaged from the trash bin.

"Well, that's alright then I suppose. Why don't you put your things away in the guest room, while I heat us up a bite to eat? It's the second door on the right."

Arabella smiled at Harry as he scampered off to find the room and then glowered at an imaginary Petunia the second he was out of sight. Returning to the kitchen she rinsed the cup, set it to dry, and made a fateful decision.

"It's just not right how they treat him," she told her audience of cats with an edge of determination in her voice.

They chorused meows of agreement.

"And it's not right they didn't take him on Holiday. What that boy needs is an adventure."

When Harry came back a scant few minutes later, his big green eyes were glowing brightly behind his thick glasses.

"Do I really get to stay in that wonderful room?" Harry breathed in awe.

It was a nice enough guest room, a little small and a little plain perhaps, but clean. For the life of her Arabella couldn't remember anything especially 'wonderful' about it except for the pretty quilt. However, it was doubtful that a little boy would notice such a thing.

"Yes you do, consider it yours for the week, and any other time you stay here as well." Arabella added. Her reward was to see the boy's eyes grow even brighter.

"Wow!"

"You know Harry, I've been thinking. We have a whole week stretching out in front of us, a week just itching for something exciting to happen. On one hand, I do have a ton of chores I should be doing that your aunt said you would help me with - dusting, cleaning, sorting, organizing, vacuuming, and all the cats need a bath. However, on the other hand, your family is off on a holiday adventure. It seems to me that you deserve one too. I need help deciding what to do, and since you're going to be here for a while I think you should have a vote."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. So, what do you think we should do about it? Should we be responsible, and do chores - or should we be carefree, and have an adventure?"

"Well…" Harry considered the options carefully, "…dusting and all that stuff _could_ wait, and after all if we do it now, we'll just have to do it again. Dust just keeps coming back you know," he observed wisely from obvious experience, "and I don't think those cats really like taking baths. I think they would prefer it if we skipped that chore all together."

"Carefree adventure it is!" Arabella gleefully swept her cat Tibbles off the table and picking up the local newspaper. Flipping through it for inspiration of an adventure worthy of their playing hooky from responsibility, a small ad caught her eye and Arabella chuckled with delight. It was as if the tea leaves had left her a sign prophesying that fate was about to knock at her door in the guise of an eight-almost-nine-year-old boy and then told her what to do with him.

"This is just the ticket! I believe my boss owes me at least one bonus after seven almost eight years without a pay raise. Poor man, so busy, so forgetful - tsk, tsk, it's utterly shameful. Well, I'll just help him out and send him the bill without bothering him."

"What is it?" Harry asked, standing on tiptoe while trying to peer over her shoulder.

"Tell me Harry, do you know how to ride a bicycle?"

"No… not really. But I've watched Dudley and I think I can do it. Dudley got a bicycle last Christmas from Father Christmas! A red one, it was really nice." Harry said wistfully. "He even said I could have a turn after he got tired of it, but when Uncle Vernon was teaching him how to ride it, the wheel bent, so I never got to try it."

"A bent wheel? That ought to have been fixable."

"Oh it is, but Dudley said he didn't care to ride it anymore, so Uncle Vernon didn't have it fixed. I look at it sometimes, and I asked if I could try and fix it myself, but Uncle Vernon said I already did enough damage."

"Damage?"

"Yeah... you see it was my fault it got bent to begin with. Uncle Vernon said I looked at Dudley funny when he was riding on it and made him tumble. So now it just hangs on the shed wall above the mower, where Dudley can see it if he wants too."

"Hrumph!" Arabella gave out an unladylike snort. She knew from her spying that Dudley seldom, if ever, went into the garden shed. It was only Harry who ever did, whenever he cut the Dursley's grass. Vernon probably mounted it there on purpose, just to taunt Harry, as he would have to see it every time he got out the mower.

"Odds are it was Dudley's own weight that bent it. Nonetheless, it's of little matter how it happened as I think we can remedy it first thing in the morning. Right now however, it is getting late. It's time for supper and bed."

After a nice supper of tomato soup and cheese sandwiches, Arabella showed Harry all the new cat pictures she had taken during the past months before sending him off to take a bath and go to bed.

Even talking into account it would be avoiding looking at more cat pictures, Arabella thought that Harry seemed too excited about going to bed for an eight-almost-nine-year-old. Didn't they normally fight to stay up past their bedtime? What in the world could be so exciting about the old four-poster bed, with its lumpy old mattress, for a boy his age?

Arabella was still wondering about it when she got up the next morning.

Harry was already up and greeted her with a big grin. He had fed the cats and had breakfast well in hand before she had even shuffled out to the kitchen. The sound of happy whistling and the smell of bacon sizzling had roused her out of her slumbers, but when she asked Harry why he was up at six a.m., all he did was apologize for having a sleep in, claiming that the bed was way too comfortable to get up at five.

Arabella pried her eyelids open while sipping on some hot tea and tried to process that information. No, open eyelids still didn't help it make sense. Neither did seeing a young boy cooking breakfast by himself. However, she supposed it was just one of the things, his aunt had told him he was to do, to make himself useful while he stayed with her. Not entirely a bad thing, as Arabella disliked cooking early in morning, only he seemed so darn proficient at it.

She shook her head at the troubling thought and focused on Harry instead. Now that she was up, she was intent on starting their adventure. Even though it was so early that not even the stray cats were out, Arabella braved the trek to her ramshackle shed. Once there she enlisted Harry's help to hold the sputtering flashlight and started searching the rafters. In a dark desolate corner behind a stack of discarded tiki torches, and several boxes of abandoned home improvement projects, she finally spotted what she was looking for.

In her haste to capture her quarry before it slipped away once more into the darkness, Arabella built a makeshift ladder out of boards that she laid across a few suspiciously un-ladder-worthy old boxes. Stupidly proud of her ingenuity, Arabella balanced precariously atop the pile on tiptoe, and reached out for her treasure, while Harry watched her acrobatics with amazement.

"Careful, Mrs. Figg! Be careful!"

"Don't worry Harry, I got it!" Arabella made a grasp for the prize and caught hold just as the makeshift ladder did just that - shifted. With pure dumb luck, Arabella landed on both feet still clutching her prize - the handlebars attached to a beautiful sparkling baby blue bicycle …well what used to be beautiful, sparkling, and baby blue …it was now more rusty, dusty and musty.

"Ooo, I guess three quarters of a decade in the rafters didn't exactly keep Baby Blue in tip-top condition." Undeterred from her adventure plans Arabella lowered the bicycle down for closer inspection with Harry's help.

"It look's kind of old…" Harry said doubtfully.

"Okay so the tires might have dry rot, and the chain is a bit rusted. The basket is falling apart, the reflectors are missing, and hm….overall it seems to be a little… _bent_. Well as I said before Harry, bent can be fixed. It just needs a little patching back together, but all in all, not too bad! So what do you really think?"

"Er…" Harry looked back and forth between the rusted lump of metal and Arabella's hopeful face and finally choked out a "…it's brilliant."

"Yes it is, isn't it?" she agreed with immense satisfaction.

Harry was just glad Mrs. Figg's question was rhetorical, and that she really wasn't expecting any further agreement on his part, because right now he was having serious doubts about her sanity. After Harry helped her load the bicycle into the back of her derelict station wagon, Arabella went back inside her cottage and ripped the ad out of the paper that she had spotted the night before.

"This looks promising," she mused out loud. "Bob's Bike Shop is having a spring tune-up special. Bob also says he works on all makes and models of bikes and has been in business for quite a while. Look Harry - a coupon! I just hope Bob's is open early!"

Harry followed the dotty woman back outside shaking his head. He had a hunch Bob never expected a customer quite like her to show up in his shop.

Forever the optimist Arabella herded Harry into the wagon. After a quick stop at the Dursley's to add the bent red bicycle to the boot, with an encore performance of her acrobatics, they headed to the outskirts of Little Whinging to find Bob. Pulling up in front of the address listed in the ad, Arabella rechecked the street number, and then rechecked again.

"Well Harry this is it. And Bob seems to be open."

"Are you sure this is the right address Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked a bit doubtfully looking at the seedy establishment with concern.

"Yes, I'm sure. This is definitely it. Come on. Help me get the bicycles out of the boot."

As she and Harry were trying to wrestle the obstinate formerly blue bicycle out of the boot, a couple of scary looking bikers came up behind them. They took over and hefted out the decrepit rusty bicycle, setting it down on its two very flat tires, leaving Harry speechless and Arabella enchanted.

"There you go Miss, have a nice day," one of them addressed Arabella.

Then with a not too subtle roar from their dual exhausts, her two knights in black leather and chains, with skulls emblazoned across the back of their jackets, revved their engines, saluted their fellow adventure seekers and headed off into the rising sun.

Pushing the bicycles past the rows of gleaming motorcycles lined up in front of the shop, Arabella and Harry entered the propped open front door and searched until they found Bob. Bob was engrossed with taking apart an engine while entertaining a few biker buddies with some colourful anecdotes. They knew it was Bob because he had 'Bad Boy Bob' tattooed in flames on his well-muscled bicep.

Bob was an imposing looking man. He was very tall, wide, bald, and with not just a few tattoos - his took body art to a whole new level. Noticing the new customers, Bob stopped what he was doing and stared at Arabella as if she was an escapee from a mental sanatorium. Harry could see why, she did look extremely out of place in her housecoat and carpet slippers.

Finally, Bob found his voice and asked, "What'cha want?"

"I have a coupon from your ad in the daily paper. It says you work on all makes and models. We were wondering - can you fix our bicycles?"

Harry backed up a step just in case Bob construed the 'we' to include him. However, Arabella wasn't concerned at all and just stood there ginning inanely at Bad Boy Bob. After a few moments of disbelief, Bad Boy Bob grinned back at the ridiculous request.

"Sure, why not?" he laughed, "come back tomorrow. They should be done."

Arabella was confident that Bob certainly looked like he knew his way around a bike, so she left Baby Blue and Ruby Red in his tender loving care, and anticipating the 'morrow, left the shop with a dazed Harry in tow as she hummed the Cindy Lauper tune '_I've got a brand new pair of roller skates…'_

The next morning dawned fraught with the promise of adventure - beautiful blue skies, fluffy white clouds, a gentle breeze and a balmy warm temperature. Arabella was practically giddy as she and Harry headed for Bob's to pick up Baby Blue and Ruby Red.

True to his word, Bob had unbent Ruby Red's wheel, and had unbent, de-rusted, oiled, lubricated, and then not only installed new tires, but also replaced the seat, peddles, reflectors, basket, and polished up Baby Blue until he gleamed. All that was missing was a jaunty bell and a playing card pinned to the spokes. He was again the sparkling baby blue bicycle Arabella remembered from long ago. Baby Blue fairly shone as he stood proudly next to Ruby Red, in the midst of all the black and chrome Harleys.

"'oughter to wear a helmet." Bob said hefting the bikes into the boot of Arabella's wagon. "'course I don't sell bicycle helmets here. But you two definitely 'oughter get 'em." He nodded after giving Arabella and Harry a speculative glance.

"Don't you worry Bob, I'll make sure Harry has one, and I'll be fine." Arabella assured him as she loving stroked the now shiny bicycle. "I'm not going to ride it far and I don't plan on any spills."

"Just takes one to make it worth it." Bob replied sagely.

Back at home, they left the bicycles on the car park and went into the kitchen for an early lunch. As they munched on bacon and tomato sandwiches Arabella could see the bikes beckoning them from where they left them parked on the drive. Their gleaming spokes sparkling in the late morning sun.

"I have laundry to do but as you said about dusting, if I do it now, it will just get dirty and need to be done again. I suppose just one little spin down the lane wouldn't take too much time. Shall we go?"

"YES MA'AM!" Harry shouted happily, jumping up and starting for the door. He couldn't wait to ride the beautiful red bicycle. It was what he had asked Father Christmas for the prior year, and had been so disappointed when Father Christmas gave it to Dudley instead. Father Christmas never gave him what he asked for. In fact, Father Christmas never gave him anything at all. Dudley said it was because Father Christmas didn't like him very much.

"Wait just a minute young man!" Arabella called him back with authority. "You can't ride the bike!"

Harry's heart leapt into his throat with disappointment. Mrs. Figg wasn't going to let him ride it! She was just like all the rest of the adults in his life, who only let him look and never touch. She had it fixed for Dudley not him. Just when he was just beginning to like her - cats and all.

"I- I- I can't?"

"No. Definitely not. You heard what Bob said. You can't ride the bike until you put on your helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, and pads for anything else that can bend or can break."

Arabella handed him the large sack of protective gear that she had picked up at the twenty-four hour SuperMart the night before after she put him to bed.

"Oh!" he laughed relieved and stopped to gear up. By the time that the last pad was in place, Harry seriously doubted he would be able to move let alone ride a bicycle. However, if that's what it took to be allowed to get on Ruby Red, he was certainly willing to give it a try! Once again, he headed out the door, this time with Arabella close behind.

With a spring in her step, Arabella left all her responsibilities behind on the doorstep and hopped on the beautiful blue bicycle. Sure, she hadn't ridden a bike in forty some years, but they do say you never really forget how to ride a bike once you've learned.

"Now watch me closely Harry. I'll show you how to do it."

Feeling all of eight-years-old herself, Arabella plopped Mr. Paws in the basket and pushed off. Baby Blue fairly jumped down the tarmac in eagerness to be off. Too long Baby Blue had felt abandoned, too long he been left to rot in the rafters, too long had he been ignored. Well not anymore! He would show his ungrateful owner a thing or two!

Totally oblivious to the scheming sentient entity stealthily embodied in the sleek blue frame below her, Arabella was revelling in the wind blowing through her hair. Down the drive she went, around in a slow lazy circle and then up the lane, her housecoat flapping in the breeze.

"Whee!" Arabella cried out in delight, "I forgot how much fun this was! I really shouldn't have left my bicycle neglected for so long."

_No, you really shouldn't have, _smirked Baby Blue, _and now it's time to make sure you don't ever forget me again..._

"This has been fun, but I should be getting back to Harry now," Arabella thought as she tried to turn the bicycle around.

Baby Blue wouldn't turn.

"Oh no! The main road is up ahead and there's a lot of traffic!" Arabella started to panic in earnest. Seeing the danger ahead, Mr. Paws began to yowl in protest over giving up one of his nine lives over such out and out foolishness. When the bike kept going anyway, Mr. Paws leapt for safety.

Baby Blue sped up.

"I better head for that little car park at the corner market and stop." Arabella decided and angled the bicycle as much as she could in that direction. The change was slight but enough so that it wobbled into the lot, narrowly missing hitting the fire hydrant.

"I didn't forget how to ride, but I did forget how to make it stop! Stop! Please STOP!"

Baby Blue didn't stop.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Arabella commanded Baby Blue.

However since Arabella still hadn't had the presence of mind to use the hand breaks, and was just resorting to shouting 'Stop' as if that would somehow do something, Baby Blue decided it was his prerogative to ignore her entirely. Only on second thought, none of the alternatives to not stopping was all that great either…crash into parked cars, crash into moving cars, or…wait! …crash into that soft looking bush dead ahead.

Baby Blue laughed evilly and did just that. After all, his new best friend Bad Boy Bob had just tenderly put him back together, and he really didn't want to crash into some unforgiving hunk of metal and undo all that hard work, any more that Arabella did. He came to a stop with his front tire embedded in the large green arborvitae bush.

Arabella breathed a momentary sigh of relief until with chagrin she felt the world shifting under her in a déjà vu moment.

In slow motion, Baby Blue toppled over to the left.

"Hm…a little late to think of this but I should have put my foot down." Arabella ruefully limped back down the road nursing her pride and her bruises, pushing the still unscratched Baby Blue slowly back to the cottage.

"Wow! Mrs. Figg! That was something! I thought you were a goner for sure!" Harry pointed out with all the subtly of the eight-almost-nine-year-old he was.

"I was just illustrating why it is important to always wear your helmet. I hope you were taking notes." Mrs. Figg said primly coming to a stop in front of him and dusting herself off, just as Mr. Paws walked stiffly by with all the dignity of a very miffed cat, snubbing them both with his nose and tail held high in the air.

"Thanks - got it! Is it my turn now?" Harry asked hopefully. He was hardly able to contain himself from excitement.

"Just remember what not to do." Arabella advised, and stayed alongside steadying the red bicycle, as Harry started wobbly down the pavement slowly picking up speed.

As the wheels turned faster and faster, Harry got steadier and steadier, until Arabella finally let go and he was on his own…

… gliding smoothly down the tarmac…

… right towards the busy highway…

Ruby Red wasn't turning either. Harry hadn't been the only one taking notes from Arabella and Baby Blue's demonstration.

"Merlin! What have I done? He'll be killed!"

Arabella ran down the tarmac after the shiny red bicycle yelling "Up! Harry! Up!"

Ruby Red sped up.

Harry clung to the handlebars, closed his eyes tight, and tentatively whispered… _'Up?'_

At the command, Ruby Red's tires lifted gently off the tarmac and flew over the speeding cars, to land lightly on the far side. One shiny red bicycle and one small well padded boy all thankfully still intact.

"Harry! Harry? Are you alright?" Arabella panted as she jogged up with a limp, her housecoat askew and one carpet slipper missing. She found Harry in one piece with his eyes still tightly closed.

"Wow! That was brilliant!" Harry giggled, opening his big green eyes in astonishment. "It felt for a minute as if I were really flying! Can I go again? Please?"

"Um… how about tomorrow? Right now I think I need to do something less dangerous, like bathing the cats." Arabella answered as the two started walking companionably back to the cottage, Ruby Red wheeling proudly between them.

After putting antiseptic on the multiple scratches courtesy of an even more miffed, and now wet Mr. Paws, they had a hamburger dinner, and then Arabella tucked a very tired Harry Potter into the four-poster bed and pulled the quilt up to his chin. Snowy, another one of her cats, made herself at home on his pillow, with her tail playfully tickling his ear.

"Did you have a good day?"

"Oh YES Mrs. Figg! I had the best day ever! Thank you!"

"For what?"

"For everything! For the food, for the bicycle ride, and for this wonderful bed to sleep in."

"You know that still puzzles me. Nearly everyone who stays in here when visiting with me complains that the mattress is lumpy. They all say they never get a wink of sleep on it. I've thought about replacing it, only it does keep their visits short so I haven't bothered. Just what do you think is so nice about it?"

Harry hesitated before answering. There were two reasons. The first was because it _was_ a bed, simply a bed. All he ever had to sleep on at home was an old cot with a thin mattress and threadbare blanket, so this one felt luxurious to him. He couldn't think of any word big enough to describe it except for wonderful.

Mrs. Figg looked as if she really wanted to know the answer, and she looked as though she would believe him and not say he was making it all up, as his teachers at school always did.

However, Harry knew he wasn't supposed to talk about how things were at home. It would make Aunt Petunia very unhappy if she found out that he had, and if Aunt Petunia were unhappy, then so would be Uncle Vernon, and if Uncle Vernon were unhappy, he would make sure that Harry was in turn. He always got along much better with his relatives if he kept his mouth shut.

Somehow telling that to Mrs. Figg, no matter how nice she was to him, was something he just couldn't do. He was too ashamed because he felt like he deserved it. Instead, he told her the second reason, the one that made him feel all warm and cosy inside.

"Er… it's the quilt," Harry said tracing the pattern of seams with his finger.

"The quilt?" she repeated startled that he had noticed it.

"Yeah… it smells like – like…" he faltered as he searched for the right words.

"Yes?" she asked gently. "What does it smell like?"

"It smells like a mum. Like – like sunshine, sunshine and flowers… and I had really wonderful dreams sleeping under it last night. I dreamt that I had a real mummy, a real daddy, and even a real baby sister. It seemed so… real, that I didn't want to wake up."

"And you think the quilt gave you these dreams?"

Harry nodded and then shrugged. "I don't know why… it's hard to explain. But… it felt just like I was being hugged all night long. So, thank you for letting me use it."

"Oh Harry child, you are so very, very welcome."

Arabella wished so much that she could tell him why it made him feel that way. However, her orders were to watch only. As she tucked him in, she patted the patch that lay over his heart. It was an especially pretty block of light greens, white, and creamy yellow with delicate lilies printed in the floral pattern of the cotton. In one corner, tiny lettering had been painstakingly stitched with fine thread.

'_With love, L.E.P. - November '79'_

Arabella did some quick mental arithmetic and realized with a start that the little boy who snuggled happily under it now would have barely been a twinkle in his mother's eyes when she embroidered that.

"Mrs. Figg?"

"Yes Harry?"

"Do you have any kids? I mean you're a 'misses' and all, so maybe you do… but I haven't seen any around."

"No Harry," she replied sadly, "I wasn't blessed with children."

"That too bad. I think you would have made a great mum."

"Thank you Harry," Arabella laughed. "Most people say it's a good thing I wasn't one because I'm so scatterbrained that if I'd ever had a baby, I would have misplaced it somewhere and then forgot where I put it."

"You mean like my parents did me?"

"Not exactly…"

"I wish I had a real family." Harry said so softly that she almost didn't hear him.

'_I wish you did too Harry, I wish you did too.' _Arabella thought as she tenderly placed a kiss on his forehead. "Now go to sleep."

"'kay…"

"Sweet dreams," she whispered and as she turned out the lights, she could hear the little boy humming fragments of a lullaby to himself...

…_if I close my little eyes now and… da da da  
dada da dada da da in my …sleep …sleep …sleep_

Arabella wondered what the words were as they brought a smile to the child's face as another wonderful dream enveloped him in sleep.

The rest of the week literally flew by with Arabella and Harry managing by the end of the week to bathe each one of her cats, defeat the dust bunnies, and take daily bicycle rides on much better behaved Baby Blue and Ruby Red. All too soon, it was Sunday evening on Mother's day and Petunia Dursley was ringing her doorbell, shouting for Harry and admonishing him for keeping them waiting.

"Hurry up lazy! We're going home and you need to unpack the car when we get there."

The little boy sadly said goodbye, as he stood on Arabella's stoop clutching the same paper bag that he had come with.

"Thank you again Mrs. Figg." Harry said politely trying to ignore his aunt shouting at him from the car while his uncle repeatedly honked the horn at him to hurry. Meanwhile, Dudley was occupying himself by pressing his face against the glass of the back window to make grotesque faces at his cousin.

"You're welcome Harry," Arabella wanted to tell the Dursleys to stuff it and pull Harry back inside with her.

"I had a really nice time. It was almost - almost like having a real mummy."

"Anytime Harry, anytime," Arabella told him, touched beyond belief. "Say… why don't I keep Ruby here for you? I think she will be better off out of Dudley's sight, and I doubt if he'll even notice she's missing."

"Thanks." Harry said with a smile as he started towards the car.

"What do you think you're doing?" Petunia screeched at him as he opened the back door to slide in next to Dudley. "There isn't room for you in the car! Run home lazybones, it's not that far. And you better be there when we get there!"

"Yes Ma'am." Harry acknowledged dutifully got back out. However, before he got very far, he remembered something and he ran back to where Arabella was standing and pressed a small piece of cardboard into her hand.

"Goodbye Mrs. Figg! Happy Mother's Day and thanks again for the holiday!" Harry then took off, running down the pavement towards Privet Drive as fast as he could, his uncle narrowly missing running him down as he passed by. As Vernon gunned the motor and roared down the lane in a cloud of exhaust, Harry turned and waived once more before he disappeared around the corner following the car.

"I think Albus and I need to have a little chat," Arabella thought to herself as she closed the door, picking up her own suitcase just as the fireplace turned green and her eldest brother's head appeared in the flames.

"You ready to go Ara?"

"Yes Aaron, I'm ready," she answered taking a deep breath as he stepped through the flames into her living room.

Her brother had come to escort her back to Hogsmeade. As a squib, while she could see magic, she didn't have enough of it herself to make it work for her. Therefore, to use the floo network someone with the ability had to take her. As Arabella took his arm and stepped into the flames, she gritted her teeth.

She loved her brothers. She truly did. She just wished they didn't have to rub their magic in her face all the time. She didn't want to drive that far in her old decrepit station wagon by herself, but she would have been perfectly happy taking the night bus to Hogsmeade instead. But no, they insisted one of them would come and get her.

Arabella derisively thought that they probably just didn't want to waste any time to start regaling her with their tales and making her feel like wallpaper – something that just hung around her house, and did very little.

And she was right – darn it.

The minute she walked in the door, it was 'poor little Arabella this' and 'poor little Arabella that', too bad you can't do magic poor, poor, little Arabella. It was the same as every other year… with one small dark haired exception.

This year it didn't bother Arabella quite so much because even if she could talk about it, her brothers would never believe that she, Arabella Doreen Figg, squib extraordinaire, had taught the saviour of the wizarding world how to fly.

When asked why she was limping, she just smiled and said she had tripped over a cat. After her knee swelled up to the size of a cantaloupe, she went to see the doctor, fortunately the x-ray did not show any breaks. She just had a slightly dislocated kneecap. However, with enough pain pills, it hadn't stopped her from riding along side Harry on daily bike treks all over Little Whinging and into the surrounding countryside. Even the bruises down the left side of her body were beginning to fade.

Sitting at the scrubbed wood table, her leg up on a neighbouring chair encased in ice packs courtesy of her overly protective brothers, who were once again convinced she didn't have the brains to look after herself.

Arabella put a vacant look on her face and zoned out of listening to them trying to out-brag each other. Calmly sipping her tea, she idly reflected instead on sentient beings disguised as bicycles.

Baby Blue had been a gift from her brothers as a substitute for the broom that she couldn't make work. She should have known that they would have imbedded a small bit of magic into it, however illegal that might have been. Therefore, she wasn't entirely surprised when the magic woke up and tried to exact revenge on her, for her impertinent use. However, what surprised her was Ruby Red. She wondered if Father Christmas got the gift tags mixed up. Perhaps he hadn't left it for Dudley after all.

The thought of gift tags made her remember the small round piece of cardboard Harry had pressed into her hand when he left. She had dropped it in her pocket when her brother had showed up so suddenly and she hadn't looked to see what it was.

Fishing it out now, she noticed that Harry had coloured the front with a gold marker and affixed a safety pin to the back with sellotape to make it into a badge. On the front, written in small lettering, was the sentiment 'Best Mum for a Day'.

Arabella smiled. Harry had made her a medal.

"I guess Bad Boy Bob was right," she mused pinning it on her blouse proudly. "It does just take one to make it worth it."

_~fin~_


	2. A Patchwork Angel

**A ****Patchwork Angel**

Disclaimer: I don't own JKR's Harry Potter, or anything by , or anything else that may seem the least bit familiar. In fact, I own very little, and now even less.

Author: written by DracaDelirus, typed and posted by me too! Thanks again Doc for letting me do this :)

Dedication: This little story is especially dedicated to my very talented writing friend Swanpride who told me all about Christmas in Germany (if you haven't read Swanpride's stories you really should! :) And to everyone else who read and reviewed my stories the Hundred Acre Wood and I Love M.O.M. Thank you. I am very grateful and humbled that you even bothered. I would have made you all Christmas cards except that I wouldn't have known where to send them anyway so I wrote you a story instead. And this one already has the happy ending included! You don't have to wait for it! YAY! Thank you again. I appreciate you all. :) Oh! And here is what my Christmas card to you would have said:

_My Christmas Wish_

_It isn't wrapped in a box and bow  
But I give it with my heart and soul._

_My Christmas wish is for you this year  
May your life be filled with joy and cheer._

_Showered with blessings from up above  
And overflowing your days with love._

_I wish for you good family and friends  
Those who care and are true to the end._

_I wish for you a home where you're safe  
Nothing to threaten, nothing to chafe._

_I wish for you warm hugs when you're cold  
And when you are scared a hand to hold._

_I wish for you nights of peaceful sleep  
Trouble and woe far away to keep._

_Gaily wrapped gifts are more fun I know  
With shiny paper and fluffy bows_

_But this is all that I have to give  
My wish for you a full life to live _

_- Happy Christmas! -  
DracaDelirus_

**Patchwork**** Angel Patchwork AngelegnA krowhctaP legnA krowhctaP**

"Ugh! Gerroff me!" Harry's muffled shouts could be heard coming from underneath the hulking lump that was his cousin Dudley. Dudley, older by about a month, and heavier by a good two stones, was currently using his younger and smaller cousin as a floatation device while he polished off what was left of Harry's meagre lunch, even though Dudley had already eaten his own more-than-ample lunch earlier.

Harry's struggles were useless against the weight of his cousin and they only served to make the crowd of boys surrounding them laugh all the harder at the spectacle. In the distance, the school bell started ringing, signalling the end of the lunch period.

Dudley bounced one more time, grinding Harry even deeper face down into the icy mud puddle, before wiping his hands off on the back of his cousin's shirt. He then hoisted himself up and ambled toward the school with the rest of his pack.

Harry sighed and getting up on his hands and knees, he glared at Dudley's retreating back. He was a little bit more dirty, wet, cold and hungry than before lunch, but that was nothing new, just more of the same-old-same-old. Only today, Dudley had also relieved him of the contents of all his pockets, and then made sure he would be late going back to the classroom.

"Why today of all days?" Harry groaned as he sat back on his heels.

Before she let them out for lunch, their teacher had told them that she had a very busy afternoon planned. She also told them how disappointed she would be if any of them were tardy returning. Harry really liked this pretty substitute teacher, she was the first one who was ever nice to him more than once, and he hated the thought of seeing disappointment in her eyes knowing that he was the cause.

He would like to blame it on someone else, but ending up in the mud puddle really had been his own fault, he reasoned, so it followed that being late because of it, was also his fault. After all these years, he knew better than to take his lunch sack out before he had checked, and re-checked, to make sure that neither Dudley, nor any of Dudley's friends were around.

Dudley's circle of friends included all the other kids at school, which always made for a very lonely lunchtime for Harry. If the other kids were not Dudley's friends through a mutual activity, like 'Harry Hunting', then they were friends through fear and intimidation. Dudley would simply beat up anyone, even older or younger kids, who were even remotely nice to Harry. Then to top it off, each year their Primary teacher soon found out their classroom dynamics ran so much smoother if they pampered Dudley and ignored Harry.

Dudley had made it his own special mission in life to make sure that his 'freaky little cousin' had zero friends and supporters. Therefore, he went out of his way to ensure Harry's miserable lonely existence stayed as lonely and miserable as possible.

As the bell stopped ringing Harry got up, slipped behind a bush out of sight, stripped, and wrung out his sopping wet clothes as best as he could. After redressing, he pushed his turned out empty pockets back in, and started trudging across the playground towards the school, the icy slush squishing in through the holes in his trainers with every step. Reaching the classroom door, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and mustered the courage to go back into class and face his tormentors once again.

Harry slipped in the door at the back of the classroom as quietly as he could. He was grateful the teacher had her back turned towards the classroom as she wrote the afternoon's agenda on the blackboard. She hadn't seen him! It might be okay after all! He had almost made it to his seat when he caught the malicious look on Dudley's face and froze like a statue.

Dudley grinned from ear to ear as he raised his reader and let it drop flat on the floor with a loud 'BANG!' causing the teacher to jump and break the chalk with a spine tingling squeal across the board.

Rose Krueger swung around and glared at the class with a stern look, effectively squelching the spattering of snickers coming from the children in the room. It was easy to spy the offending noisemaker, as she knew right where to look for him.

"Shush! Dudley! I said this is _quiet_ time! You're supposed to be reading."

She had a migraine headache that matched the pain in her lower back caused by her pregnancy. Rose was close to her due date and her doctor had told her that she shouldn't be working, at least not on her feet. However, she and her husband were broke and really needed the money with the baby coming. Jimmy had gotten a full time job at the corner market, stocking shelves and doing general grunt work, but all she could find was a temporary substitute teaching position.

It was just a stroke of luck for them that the position unexpectedly became available, so even though she should be off her feet, here she was standing in front of a classroom all day. Because as everyone knows - you can't keep up with a classroom of nine-year-olds if you're sitting down on the job!

"Mrs. Krueger it wasn't me! I swear!" Dudley piped up, putting his most innocent accused unfairly look upon his face. "It was Harry. He was trying to sneak in late and he knocked the book off my desk on purpose! He's trying to get me into trouble. Isn't he?" Dudley polled the rest of the class.

As twenty other nine-year-old heads nodded in complete agreement, Dudley leaned back smugly. He was still training this substitute teacher what-was-what and who-was-who. She just didn't seem to get it like the other teachers, and kept trying to be nice to his freaky little stupid cousin.

Rose looked doubtfully at Dudley. Harry was two rows over and was nowhere near Dudley's desk, which was near the front of the class. Notwithstanding that small insurmountable geographical fact, was the reasoning that if Harry was trying to sneak in, as he had indeed been trying to do - one look on his mortified face attested to that fact - then knocking into Dudley's desk on purpose and calling attention to himself would have been the last thing he would have done.

"Harry?"

"Dudley's right Ma'am, I did it. Sorry."

Harry swallowed hard and stared at his feet. He just couldn't look up and see her disappointed in him again, but there was absolutely no way he was going to rock the boat. Not this close to Christmas anyway!

Harry had learned very early on that it was far easier on him in the long run, to just go along with whatever Dudley said, whether it was true or not. Besides, this year he was trying so very hard to be extra good so that maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance that his Christmas wish would finally come true. Not rocking the boat, and keeping Dudley more or less happy, was the best way he could figure out how to do that - and Dudley was only happy when Harry was in trouble.

Rose sighed. She just didn't know what to do. Dudley was obviously the culprit, as he normally was, but once again, his quiet reserved cousin was seemingly willing to take the blame. Short of calling both boys liars, she really didn't see there was anything she could do to prevent him from doing just that.

"I'm sure you are Harry. Very well then, take your seat and get out your reader. For coming in late, and for disrupting the class, you will write an essay on your Christmas country while the rest of the students have their arts and crafts time. You will find the information on the country you selected on pages one hundred sixty-five through one hundred seventy. Begin now please."

"Yes Ma'am." Harry said quietly and nodded obediently.

He slipped into his seat and opened his book, never raising his head once, but from the dejected slump of his shoulders, it was obvious he had been looking forward to the activity that he was now missing out on. Since it was the last day before the Christmas break, the class was going to be finishing their Christmas ornaments that afternoon, so that they could take them home to decorate their trees.

The class had been studying the different Christmas customs of countries around the world, and every child had been making an ornament to represent the country that 'belonged' to them. The teacher had put the names of the countries into a box, and then after mixing them up, everyone got to draw one out.

Harry had originally drawn England, but Dudley had thrown a fit because according to his father, England was the only country that mattered, so Dudley refused to participate if he had to do any other. To keep the peace, Harry gave him the slip of paper with England on it, and took Dudley's slip for Germany instead.

Three weeks ago, they had spent Arts and Crafts time designing what they wanted their ornaments to look like. The week after that, they had actually made the ornament shapes out of clay and then carefully punched a little hole in the top of each one for the ribbon hanger. Then last week they went on a field trip to a watch a local factory fire their works of art in a kiln. Today they were finally going to get to paint and decorate them.

The class had been anticipating the culmination of their efforts all month, chatting about what colours they were going to use, and what adornments they were going to glue on them. Dudley had been bragging his would be the best of all. He had told his classmates how his mum had taken him to a craft store to buy real baubles with which to finish it.

However if the truth be known, if Harry hadn't already known what country Dudley's ornament was supposed to represent, he would never have been able to figure it out. Other than the hole for hanging it, his ornament didn't look that much different from the lump of clay he'd started with. For all of Dudley's bragging, Harry wasn't sure if even he knew what it was supposed to be.

Harry's ornament was an angel. He had carefully sculpted the little body and face, and had been gathering bits of odds and ends, and scraps from here and there to make its dress and wings. While he knew all the countries that they studied had angels in some form or another in their culture, so they weren't strictly German, he felt an overwhelming desire to make his an angel.

Once the idea came into his head, he couldn't imagine his ornament being anything else. It was all he had thought about for weeks, ever since Mrs. Krueger's first day as their teacher when she had stood in front of the class and told them of the project. The image of his angel ornament had come into his head while she had been describing to class the steps they would follow to make them.

The more Mrs. Krueger talked about it, the clearer the image became in Harry's imagination. He just knew that if he could make the angel, and make it perfect enough, that everything would be different somehow. This was his chance.

It hurt Rose almost more than it did Harry to take away his arts and crafts time, but what else could she possibly do? The class had been on an unruly pre-holiday sugar-rush high all morning. So she had announced before the children left for their lunch break, that missing the activity would be the penalty for anyone coming back late today, as they had a lot to do and she needed everyone to be prompt.

It was hard to teach lessons in responsibility, especially if the one teaching it backed down and played favourites. Besides, if she did, it would do Harry more harm than good with his peers. Only it was just during art class, when Harry came out of his protective shell at all and Rose was able to catch the even a glimpse of the carefree child he kept hidden deep within himself.

Something about this particular little boy had gotten to her as no other child she had taught had. Punishing him was the same as punishing herself, as she had been eagerly looking forward to seeing that moment again all morning. For the rest of the time, he was a withdrawn serious boy who, other than occupying the next to the last seat in the third row from the windows, was for all intents and purposes not even a part of the class.

Rose wished she knew what to do to help him. However, she was just a substitute teacher brought in only for the month while the permanent teacher was recovering from an accident, so she had little standing in the school.

Unlike Harry's teachers from previous years, all of whom wrote voluminous comments in his file about him being a troublemaker and difficult to teach, she thought he was a wonderful little boy with great potential. There was just something about him that made her want to pull him to her in a big hug, assure him that someone did love him, and that everything would be all right.

With growing concerns, Rose had talked with the school counsellor. It had been an enlightening chat. She found out that the more anyone from the school had tried to intervene for Harry in the past, by talking with his aunt and uncle, the more withdrawn he became.

If he retreated any further into his shell, Rose was afraid he would never come back out. It broke her heart that this would be her last day teaching his class. She had so little time left to reach him.

All during the afternoon while his fellow classmates were loud and boisterous, glitter and glue going everywhere, Harry sat in his seat writing his essay, trying not to shiver while his damp clothes dried. He was glad he had slipped behind a bush, stripped, and wrung the worst of the muddy water out of them before he came back into the school, even if it had made him late. He had learned from experience, that if he hadn't, it would just be all that worse for him when he got home.

The last time he had gotten so wet during winter was the previous year when Dudley and his gang had buried him in a snowdrift. When he had gone inside the teacher had scolded him for dripping all over her classroom floor and asked him why he hadn't worn his coat on the playground. When he told her that it was because he didn't have one to wear, she immediately called his Aunt, his Aunt called his Uncle, and his Uncle called his teacher and told her that he was a liar.

His uncle told his teacher that they had bought him a quite expensive coat, one that he had then carelessly lost, and that he hadn't wanted to admit it to them. His uncle then gave him a lesson on talking out of turn, and locked him in his cupboard for a week to think about it, only opening the door to haul him out to do chores.

His aunt explained his absence to the school by saying it was due to the bad cold he had caught while running around without a coat on. After that, the teacher never believed anything else he said, so he just quit talking altogether unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it. He just didn't see any point in wasting his breath when no one would listen anyway.

After finishing his essay, he closed his book and waited for the class to finish decorating their ornaments. He was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to finish his angel, but he reasoned that it was probably for the best anyway. If had finished it, Dudley would have just found a way to have broken it. Dudley did things like that.

Besides, when Dudley and his gang had cornered Harry on the playground they had emptied Harry's pockets. They took the treasured bits and pieces he had been gathering for weeks and dumped it all into the icy mud puddle, right before pushing Harry into it as well. All his trimmings were gone. He couldn't have finished it, even if he could work on it.

Sighing, Harry took off his glasses and put his head down on his desk. Watching the activities out of focus, through his partially closed eyelashes, he tried to pretend that he was part of the fun. Somehow that was easier to do when Dudley blurred into an unrecognizable blob (somewhat reminiscent of his ornament), and if he put his fingers in his ears to muffle Dudley's loud voice he could almost imagine that Dudley wasn't even there. The thought put a dreamy smile on his face.

When his field of vision was suddenly blocked, Harry sat up in panic and grabbed for his glasses. How stupid could he get! He let his guard down when he knew Dudley was around. That was twice in one day! He breathed a sigh of relief when his eyes came back into focus to see that it was only Mrs. Krueger standing in front of him and not his cousin.

"Are you done with your essay Harry?"

"Yes Ma'am." he said flushed and slightly out of breath as he handed her the paper.

"Good," she said giving him an encouraging smile. On the spur of the moment Rose decided she was going to do something to include Harry in the class whether he wanted it or not, so she said, "I thought it might be nice if I read it aloud to the class, to wrap up our studies on Christmas from around the world."

"NO! DON'T! I mean… _please_… please don't Ma'am." he quietly begged her.

The colour draining out of Harry's face, at the prospect made Rose question her impulse. However, she was sure that he hadn't written a poor essay. The few writing assignments of his that she had read during the prior weeks had all been very creative and well written.

Harry had quite an imaginative flair and Rose felt that he was a born storyteller. She hoped that perhaps reading the essay it would showcase his talents to his classmates and help him become more accepted. As she truly couldn't think of any downside to doing it, she decided to ignore the panic she could see rising in his large green eyes and patted his hand reassuringly before asking the class to gather around in a reading circle.

As the rest of the children pulled their chairs into a semi-circle in the front of the class, Harry remained at his desk in the back of the room. He just slid down in his chair, farther and farther, until the only part of his face visible was his accusing eyes, fixed stonily on his teacher.

Maybe if he wished hard enough, time would rewind and he could start this day over. He peeked out though slitted eyelids… no luck. It was till today. Okay that didn't work. Maybe if he pretended hard enough this wouldn't be happening, but it was…

Mrs. Krueger cleared her throat and started to read. She had smiled at him once or twice, and hadn't really yelled at him as the other teachers had, so Harry thought she kind of liked him… a little… guess not.

_Christmas in Germany by Harry Potter_

_Christmas in Germany is different from Christmas here in England. While in England, we celebrate Christmas on the twenty fifth of December when Father Christmas comes to visit us with toys and gifts, in Germany their Christmas celebration starts much earlier. _

_Their holidays start first in mid-November with lantern parades and songs, in honour of St. Martin, and then with a visit by St. Niklaus on the sixth of December. On that night, the children clean their shoes and put them out, to wake the next morning to find them filled with sweets and treats. _

_My country is Germany so I followed their traditions this year and put my shoes out on the sixth of December to see if St. Niklaus visited children in England too. I tried to wait up all night so I could see if St. Niklaus and Father Christmas looked anything alike, but I fell asleep before he came. _

_When I woke up, I found that he had come and filled my shoes with wonderful things like Gebrannte Mandeln, chocolate Pralines, and Lebkuchen, and everything with lots and lots of vanilla in it, just like I like it. I ate so much nuts and candy that I didn't eat anything else all weekend! _

_In Germany, they spend the next several weeks visiting the Weihnachstsmarkt, which is the Christmas Market, and they make Christmas Cards, and bake lots of stuff. They light an advent candle on a wreath every Sunday, and sit around it with their family and eat Christmas cookies and listen to songs. They make every day leading up to Christmas a special day. They also do most of their decorating indoors with homemade ornaments instead of outdoors with coloured lights. They make many of the gifts they give themselves. _

_On December twenty- forth the Christkind comes and they exchange gifts to honour the day. Then on the twenty fifth when we are celebrating our Christmas here in England, and on the twenty sixth when we have our Boxing Day, in Germany they are spending these two days visiting with their family and their friends and singing and eating the stuff they baked._

_For my Christmas ornament, I am making a German Angel because the Christkind is a kind of angel who brings presents. If I had friends in Germany, I would visit them for Christmas and we would decorate their tree with strings of popped corn and cranberries, and make paper stars and snowflakes to decorate it, and sing carols all night long. _

_My Angel would go on the very top of the tree, and in the morning, there would be lots of presents under the tree with my name on the tags. Things like paper to draw on, my very own coloured pencils, and a book to read, and maybe even a new notebook to write in. The best of all, because my Angel is magic, she would bring my mummy and daddy back to me and maybe even a baby sister to play with. Then I would have a family again who loved me, and I wouldn't be stuck in a cupboard all alone anymore._

_I think that Christmas in Germany is much better than Christmas in England. I wish I lived in Germany and not in Little Whinging. _

"Oh Harry…" Rose's voice caught in her throat as she looked up to find an intensely humiliated look in Harry's eyes as they sunk below the surface of the desk. A poorly disguised snort of laughter brought her attention back to the semi-circle of children and an equally intense gleeful look on Dudley's face.

'_Oh my gods! What have I done!' _Rose thought.

"Harry's lying Mrs. Krueger!" Dudley singsonged. "He didn't get nuthin' but a rock!"

"Anything…" Rose automatically corrected him, before realizing what he said and doing a double take. "Dudley? What do you mean by that? A rock for what?"

"For his Christmas from St. Niklaus Ma'am… Harry was trying to clean his ratty ol' shoes with the hosepipe and Mum asked him what he was doing. When he told her it was so St. Niklaus would leave candy in them, she made him clean my all my shoes too. The next morning, all of mine filled with jellies and boiled sweets and toffees and Harry just had a dirty old rock in his. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

As the children in the room broke out in titters and giggles, Harry simultaneously tried to sink even lower in his seat, while tucking his dilapidated trainers underneath him out of view. Only the top of his messy black hair was visible over the edge of the desk by this time.

"Children! Be quiet!"

To salvage the situation Rose tried to redirect the focus as quickly as she could by saying, "Thank you Harry for sharing your thoughts about German Christmas customs with us. I must say I agree with you. Germany is a very nice place to live. I lived in Germany for several years myself. In fact, that is where I met and married my husband, so I am quite fond of the country. There are beautiful forests as well as big cities. And…"

Rose let out a sigh of relief as the bell signalling the end of the school day, pealed in the hallway, causing all the children, except for Dudley, to forget all about tormenting Harry in their rush out the door to start their Christmas holiday. As the classroom cleared, all that could be heard was Harry's rapid breathing echoing from underneath the desk, Dudley's snickers from the vicinity of the arts and crafts area, and Rose's chair squeaking as she got up.

"I am so sorry Harry. I didn't realize…"

"It's okay Mrs. Krueger. It doesn't matter anyhow." came the muffled reply.

"But it _does_ matter."

"Why?"

"Because_ YOU_ matter Harry."

Rose wasn't sure at first whether the little boy had heard that before, but the doubt radiating from Harry, coupled with Dudley's rising laughter, confirmed her suspicions that he had not.

"…I… I do?"

"Yes Harry. You do." Rose replied very firmly, as an idea on how to make it up to him, for the embarrassment she caused, popped into her head.

"Say… doesn't your aunt pick you and Dudley up from school every day?"

"Yes Mrs. Krueger, well kind of… she picks up Dudley and I just sort of go along with them." Harry said softly and he started to rise out of his chair. "If fact, we better go now Ma'am. She'll be mad if I keep her waiting any longer."

"No Harry. You sit back down. I'll be right back. Dudley, come with me."

As Harry sat back down in his seat, Dudley brushed by and leaned down close, whispering in his ear, "I'm going to tell Mum you used the 'M' word! Just wait till we get home!"

Harry shuddered as he watched his teacher walking briskly out of the room with Dudley trailing behind. Boy was he in for it now! Dudley was going to tell Aunt Petunia about the disastrous essay! Then Aunt Petunia would tell Uncle Vernon, and then Uncle Vernon would… well… he'd rather not think about it.

"There it's all settled." Mrs. Krueger said smiling broadly, as she came back in a few minutes later looking exceedingly pleased with herself.

"What's settled Ma'am?" Harry asked curiously, looking behind her expecting to see his Aunt's furious face and not finding it.

"You and I are going to finish your ornament, and your aunt will pick you up later."

"We are?"

"Yes, I sent Dudley ahead to tell her that I wanted to keep you after school for a while, and he came back and told me your aunt replied that she was taking him to do some Christmas shopping anyway and it would be fine with her if you stayed here."

"She did? It's okay?" he breathed, amazed at his uncharacteristic good fortune. He would rather stay late at school any day, over being dragged from store to store, while his Aunt bought mountains of gifts for Dudley and none for him. The only reason she ever took him along was to carry the packages.

"Yes it is. They are probably shopping for your gifts, and don't want you to see them. That way you'll be surprised." Rose said optimistically.

"Oh I'll be surprised all right…" Harry muttered and then finished with a whisper he didn't think his teacher would hear, "...if I ever got a present from any of them. Never have yet."

Rose shook her head. _'No! Surely, he's had presents before?'_ He had said it so quietly she must have heard him wrong, she thought, dismissing her misgivings.

"So Harry… did you bring anything special to decorate your ornament with? You're making an angel, right?"

"…er… yes… um… no… well… I_ did_ have some things until recess today…" Harry's voice trailed off in shame. He didn't want to have to admit to his pretty teacher that he was such a loser that all his pretty things were at the bottom of a mud puddle courtesy of his cousin, but somehow she guessed it anyway.

"Oh, I see." Rose said knowingly. "Well, let's just move on then… now… what do we need…" she muttered thinking dark thoughts about Dudley as she started rummaging for the glue and glitter. "What would you like? Sequins? Glitter? That's what most of the kids used."

"… no Ma'am… nothing like that… I wanted to make her really pretty… just like a real angel. I wanted her to be perfect. I… I was going to put some real hair on her head, but my Aunt wouldn't let me use her scissors…"

"That was very responsible of her Harry. Children shouldn't use sharp scissors unless an adult is helping them. She probably just didn't want you to get hurt."

"Oh no Ma'am it wasn't that at all." Harry shook his head, his eyes big. "My Aunt just doesn't like me to touch any of her things."

"Oh… well I'm sure she had a good reason."

"Oh yes Ma'am she does..." he agreed nodding, finishing the thought silently to himself, '_…so I won't contaminate them with my freakishness'… _"…but without being able to use the scissors all I could get was some yarn… but it's gone now…"

"I'm so sorry… maybe we can replace it though." She said brightly. "What colour did you want to make your angel's hair?"

"I dunno… I was going to use black, since that's what colour my hair is. I thought I would just cut off some of it because it grows back real quick sometimes. Only I was really thinking that red would be the most perfect. I looked for red yarn but all I had was grey… I guess I could make some more though…" his voice trailed off and he started staring downwards again in his embarrassment.

Rose followed his line of sight and focused on the fact that her student was only wearing one rather old worn grey sock, its mate was missing.

"Harry where is your other sock? Isn't your foot cold?"

"Yes Ma'am it is a bit…" his cheeks flushed scarlet. "…but like I said… all I had was grey yarn…"

"Oh…" Rose said at a loss for words while thinking _'how much more of an idiot can I possibly be to this child?' _"_…_well how about the dress then… what would you like for that? I have some construction paper in lots of pretty colours. Maybe pink?"

"No... not pink. Pink is nice, but I had a bit of real blue lace with ribbon on it from an old handkerchief. My aunt threw it away because Dudley stained it, but part of it was still real good. I… thought it would be pretty and diaphone… dieappany… dieafone… ah… die-a-…" Harry struggled to find the right word.

"Diaphanous?"

"Yes! Die-ap-fone-ness… but I lost it in a mud puddle," he finally admitted.

"What about for the wings then?" Rose was glad she'd thought to ask the question, as it made him immediately brighten back up a bit.

"I had some robin feathers that I found last summer in the back garden that I had saved. They really should have been white feathers for an angel, but Aunt Petunia wouldn't let me have any of the ones from her feather pillow."

"Why not take a few from your pillow then?"

"I… I don't have one… a pillow that is… my aunt say's they aren't good for children," he explained rapidly, wondering again why the pillow moratorium didn't include his cousin who had two. "The robin feathers were real anyways so that was much better!"

"Why is that? Isn't a feather just a feather?" Rose smiled at his seriousness.

"Oh no! Since they were from a real bird, they had been way up in the sky and knew how to fly just like angels do. They weren't just ones from a stupid old pillow that never flew anywhere. So even though they weren't white, I was going to use them anyway so that my angel could really fly! She needs to be able to really fly - really, really, really high… so she can take my wish up …"

"Up where Harry?" Rose gently prodded.

"…uh… it doesn't matter anyway because they're…"

"Let me guess… at the bottom of the mud puddle too?"

"Yes'm." he said dejectedly and nodded.

"Dudley?" Rose sighed.

"Yes'm," Harry sighed as well.

"Well… we could paint the face on? I have some nice acrylics. Shall we make the eyes blue?"

"I had real diamonds for her eyes… you know… so they would sparkle… well they probably weren't real diamonds, but they were sparkly… I looked and looked and looked until I found a really shiny rock. Then I chipped at it with a broken hoe until I got some bits just the right size. They were yellowish though… they really should have been green…"

"I think I see now… none of this will really do for an angel as exceptional as yours, will it?" Rose asked thoughtfully, looking at the commonplace craft supplies the class had left scattered across the table.

"It's okay Ma'am, really." Harry said quickly to reassure her. He didn't want to appear ungrateful! "Whatever you have is fine. I can use the glitter and construction paper. Really, I can! I'm sorry… I didn't mean to complain… I just wanted her to be… perfect. But it doesn't matter…"

"No Harry. It does matter and I want to help, so let me see what else I can find. Why don't you get your ornament from the craft closet, and then whatever supplies you can find that might help and I'll be right back. Okay?"

As Rose ran out of the room, she could hear a small 'Alright Ma'am floating after her.

Rose shook her head in wonder at his former teachers. He was such a polite boy! How could _any_ of them have ever written that he was a troublemaker! She just couldn't see it. Of all the children in the class, Harry was the one the least likely to cause trouble in her opinion. The only reason she could see why they would have labelled him that way was if they had mixed him up with that delinquent cousin of his. Now, there was a _real_ troublemaker. Probably grow up to be a bully. He already had a big head start down that path.

Entering the teachers' lounge, she was relieved but not surprised, to find it empty. With the holidays approaching fast, everyone, including the teachers, had cleared out as soon as possible after the final bell. Securing the door, she picked up the phone and rang her husband.

"Jimmy? Can you come to the school right away? I need you. No! I mean… _right now_! Yes! I do mean that. I'm in the teachers' lounge. Just be quick and careful. No, it's clear. There's no one here. Thanks love!"

Rose hadn't even hung up the phone when her husband appeared before her out of thin air. The suddenness took her breath away.

"I don't know if I will ever get used to that!"

"All in good time my love, all in good time. You'll remember. It will all come back to you. I know it will, I have faith. Until then… well, the doctors said you just need some familiar surroundings - and Little Whinging was the safest familiar surroundings I could think of. It's not quite like the town where you grew up, but its close, and it's safer, and it's so… so… very _muggle_… is that why you needed me? Did you remember something finally? Is your magic coming back?" He asked hopefully.

"No, still a blank. It isn't that…"

"Is the baby coming? It is! It's the baby! Oh my gods! Why didn't you say so?"

"No, that's not why called you. I need you…"

"Okay! You got me!" Jimmy caught his pregnant wife around the waist and swung her into his arms in an embrace.

"Jimmy! Not now!" Rose said pushing him away playfully.

"No?"

"No! That's not why called you here either!"

"It isn't…" he pretended to pout and look disappointed, yet the merry look in his eyes gave him away.

"Oh you! No, I need help with a project." Quickly she filled him in about the lonely little boy in her class, his bully of a cousin, and her gigantic faux pas that had unintentionally caused him humiliation in front of his classmates, and finally her idea to help him finish his ornament.

"So what can I do to help?" Jimmy asked pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, crossing his arms, and becoming all business.

"I knew I could count on you!" she said giving him a grateful kiss. "We need to see if we can replace the bits and pieces that his cousin destroyed… first, we'll need some blue lace and ribbon, then some white feathers from a real bird - not from a pillow…"

"…but aren't pillow feathers from birds too?" he asked puzzled.

"…not the same…" she said shaking her head "… don't ask… also I need something small, green, and sparkly and lastly…" she took a deep breath, "…some red hair," she finished holding out a pair of scissors. Then turning her back, she unpinned her hair letting the flowing deep red locks hang loose down her back.

"You don't mean…?"

"Yes I do," she said closing her eyes. "Cut."

"Wow... this little boy must have really gotten to you."

… _snip! snip! ... _

"He has. Even the baby likes him."

… _snip! ..._

"Ha-ha! How do you know that?"

"Every time he is close by or I hear his voice, the baby starts kicking up a storm, like it wants to come out and play with him. I guess even the baby knows he needs a friend." She replied opening her eyes again, and sighing at the shorn locks now in her palm. "Well, it's not like it won't grow back."

"So what else do we need?"

"Um… blue lace and ribbon, two green sparkles, and some white bird feathers."

"Okay, I get it. The blue lace and ribbon… must be for the dress… and the white feathers for wings are a natural, but what are the green sparkles for?"

"The angel's eyes."

"So... your little boy is making a red-haired, green-eyed angel, in a blue dress with white wings?" Jimmy asked with a small smile playing around his lips.

"That's right. Why? What's so funny about it?"

"Look." He said turning her around to face the mirror hanging on the far wall of the lounge. In it, she could see her own red-haired, green-eyed reflection, standing there in a robin's egg blue dress with a white fluffy sweater tied around her shoulders.

"Oh Jimmy! You don't think he…."

"Oh yes I do. He's a man after my own heart, love." Jimmy replied whispering in her ear. "He has great taste in women anyway, and I think I may be a wee bit jealous. After all, you never cut your hair for me."

"That's because you never needed it to make an angel."

"That's because I already have a live one." He said softly giving her a hug from behind, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

"Flatterer," Lily laughed lightly.

"Now let's get the rest of the items so your little boy can have his own angel, before he gets an idea into his head to take mine! I'll pop back home and see what I can find - won't be long." He said kissing her neck and apparating.

Rose pinned back up the rest of her hair, disguising the missing locks and went back to the classroom, to find a distraught Harry sitting on the floor rocking back and forth, clutching his ornament to his chest.

"What's wrong Harry?" she asked with concern, the smile fading from her face as she knelt down beside him.

"He killed her." Harry replied in a dull monotone, two large fat tears threatening to roll down his cheeks any minute.

"Who killed who?"

"Dudley. He killed my angel." He said holding out his hands in which the clay ornament lay in several pieces. "He smashed her."

"Oh, it isn't that bad… maybe a little glue…"

"Really?"

"Really," she replied said taking the pieces with confidence she didn't feel, while he blinked back the tears and looked hopeful again.

Looking deep into his eyes, Rose knew she couldn't let him down - not after everything that had happened today. However, she also knew glue alone wouldn't fix it for the clay was in too many pieces. She took a deep breath, where was Jimmy with his wand when she needed him?

Jimmy kept telling her that she had magic deep inside her too - she just had to believe in it to get it back. It was time to find out if he was right. Holding the shattered pieces tight in her own hands, she winked conspiringly at Harry.

"Since your angel is magical, what we need is a magic spell to make her better. Can you think of one?"

Harry thought about that deeply. He often had dreams about magic even though his aunt and uncle told him there was no such thing, and even forbade him to say the word. Now he tried to bring some of the buried fragments to the surface.

"How about… _avara-kedav-a-da_?"

A shudder went through Rose as a cold feeling of fear rippled through her. That sounded so familiar, and yet the syllables were slightly… wrong. Her mind pushed the thought away and she forced the smile back on her face.

"No… I think it should be something simpler… a word about fixing or maybe repairing. Can you think of a good word like that?"

"Hm… how about… '_Repair-it'_?"

"Oh that's very good Harry, but how about we… use… um… _'Repar-o' _instead? It has more of a… _magical_… flair to it, don't you think?"

"Okay. That's good too," he agreed. "But what good is a magic spell by itself? Don't we need a magic wand too?"

"Right you are Harry! And I happen to have one!"

"You do?" he asked amazed, his eyes growing large.

"Of course I do! What good primary teacher would be caught without a magic wand? How else do you think we are able to get all the children to behave?" she asked with a merry twinkle in her eyes as she got up and started rummaging through her purse.

Harry thought he was willing to behave for her, just to have her smile at him.

"Now where did I put it?" she murmured. "Ah! Yes! Here it is!" she crowed taking out a slender length of light coloured wood. "Willow, ten and a quarter inches, very swishy, nice for charms work… Now where did that come from?" she asked puzzled as a memory danced tantalizing just barely out of reach in her subconscious.

"Your purse Ma'am?"

"What?" His question broke her out of her trance.

"You asked where the wand came from, and I said 'your purse'."

"Oh right!" Rose said shaking off the déjà vu feeling and, with some effort because of her big belly, sat back down on the floor facing Harry. "Okay now, you'll have to help me with this. Hold the pieces together how they should be and close your other hand over the top of them. Then close your eyes and say the magic word with me."

Harry did as instructed and arranged the fragments in one small hand and then closing the other over it, he squished his eyes tightly shut and whispered _'Reparo'_ at the same time Rose held her breath and swished and flicked the wand. The movement felt so natural and so right.

'_Please work! Please work! Please work!' _She chanted to herself forcing all her will into the simple spell. As she felt a warm rush of energy, the baby moved inside her, as if it were trying to help influence the outcome as well. So intent was the pair, on healing the little broken ornament, that neither of them saw Jimmy slipping in the back door of the classroom with packages in his hands.

Entering the classroom, Jimmy only had eyes for his lovely wife, whose face was glowing with light as her buried magic started to re-emerge. He couldn't see the little black haired boy's face, since his back was to him, but he was sure that the boy had to be as entranced by the sight as much as he was.

Jealously aside, he would be forever grateful for what the little boy was unknowingly doing for his wife. He was giving her a reason to find the magic within herself again. Something, that no matter how hard he had tried, he hadn't been able to accomplish.

Jimmy swallowed hard and choked back a small sob. Seeing his wife being so tender and loving with her student was almost too hard to witness. By all rights, those two little hands she was holding should have belonged to their own son. If he had lived, then he would have been close to the same age as this boy, and with the same dark hair. If only…

"I think we did it! I think we did it!" The little boy laughed suddenly, breaking the trance in the room as he felt the pieces warm and meld together in his hand.

"Of course we did! After all, your angel is magic. Right?" Rose said with relief as she let the wand drop and arched to relieve her back.

"Right!" Harry affirmed.

"Here are the locks of red hair you wanted. Why don't you get started with that and I'll go see if the rest of the items have arrived. I'll be right back."

As Rose manoeuvred to get back up from the floor, Jimmy slipped silently back out the door. He hurried to the teacher's lounge, where Rose found him whistling and leaning nonchalantly against the wall when she rushed in, flushed and breathless.

"I did it Jimmy! I did it!"

"Did what?"

"A spell! I did a spell and it worked!"

"_You_ did? Are you sure it wasn't the little boy who did it?" he teased.

"You RAT! You already knew!"

"Guilty! I saw. You weren't here when I got back so I went looking for you. I got there just in time to see it work. By the way, call me any low crawling creature you want my love except for a 'rat'. Considering all, that's just too low of a blow."

"Okay… you… you… TROLL! But what if it wasn't me like you said…" Rose started to doubt.

"I was just teasing Rosie, it _was_ you. You should have seen yourself! You were glowing with magic!"

"But Jimmy, if my magic is back, why isn't my memory?"

"I don't know hon… the mind is a funny thing. We'll just have to take it one-step at a time, and for a first step, this is a very, VERY good one. As long as you didn't have your magic back, it hasn't been safe to reveal to the wizarding world that we are even alive. For all our friends know, we are both dead too, just like…"

"…just like our first born child," Rose finished for him.

"Yes."

"Oh Jimmy! I wish I could remember. Won't you tell me _anything_? Was it a boy or a girl? Did he look like you, or did she look like me? Please Jimmy, I want to know."

"The doctors all said you would be better off if you remembered everything on your own, and I didn't try to force it on you. Losing our baby… as we did… was very traumatic for you. It's why you lost your memories, and it's why you went into that catatonic state to begin with. I won't risk you going back there. No. No hints. We are going to take this slow and gentle. It if comes back, it comes back. If it doesn't, we'll then we will just make new memories… happy ones, with the new baby."

"The 'new' baby... it makes it sound like we are trying to replace our first born as if it was defective or something. I can't do that. I was my first baby's mother before, and I am still its mother - I can sense that much. As this second baby has been growing inside me, I have been having more and more feelings about the one we lost. The more I feel about it, the more sure I am that my other baby is still out there somewhere, just waiting for me to find it. I have to remember Jimmy! I have to! It's been over eight years!"

"You will Rosie-posy, just give it time. Okay love?" Jimmy said holding her in a tight embrace. Her continual denial of their first baby's death was hard for him to cope with. He just had to keep reminding himself that she had only been dealing with it for a short time, while he had had years to come to terms with it. "You've already taken the first step, and you've only been 'awake' for two years now. Give yourself a break. It took me one of those two years just to convince you to marry me all over again."

"Well, just because a girl doesn't have a past, doesn't make her easy."

"Ha! Nothing has been easy. I tell you, ever since I came out of my own coma five years ago - it has been hard to make ends meet, what with hospital bills and all. The money ran out quickly, and being a wizard doesn't exactly qualify you for a high paying job in the muggle world unless you want to resort to black magic. With us having to fly below the radar, so to speak, _nothing_ has been easy."

"Sorry I've been so much trouble for you," Rose sniffed.

"I have no regrets. You my dear are worth every bit of the bother, plus some."

"I love you Jimmy."

"I love you too Rosie. But aren't we forgetting someone?"

"Who?"

"Your little angel maker."

"OH! I was so excited to tell you about the spell! You're right I need to get back. His aunt will be coming soon to pick him up, and we need to get finished before she does. Did you find the rest of the items on the list?"

"Voila! Six snowy white feathers, from a _most_ accommodating bird I might add." Jimmy said waving the plumage like a fan.

"Ooo! Those will work nicely!"

"I wasn't sure how many you needed so I thought three for each wing."

"Perfect! What about the lace?"

"Well… this is all I could find," he said reluctantly holding out a package wrapped in gay holiday paper and tied with a big bow. "Happy Christmas!"

"What's this?"

"Your Christmas gift from me - it's blue, it's filmy, it has lace and ribbons…"

Rose tore open the package to reveal a delicate nightgown that took her breath away.

"I hope you like it," Jimmy said softly brushing her cheek with his hand.

"It's the one I saw in the shop that we couldn't afford! But how…?"

"I've been working double shifts," he shrugged. "Skipped a lunch or two… and I thought… well, I just thought that maybe you needed something, other than that old patched flannel gown you've been wearing, when you went to Hospital to deliver. Can't have my beautiful wife looking shabby can I?"

"Oh Jimmy! You shouldn't have!" Rose's face was glowing with happiness almost as much as it had when her magic re-emerged.

"Do you want to do the honours this time?" Jimmy asked holding out the scissors.

Rose lifted the soft material one more time to her cheek before resolutely slicing into it to snip out enough for an angel's dress. "There... that's done. Now how about the green glitters?" She looked up to see Jimmy holding out a small wrapped package.

"No! Jimmy, not that!" She knew what was in the package he held - it was her Christmas gift to him.

Inside the box a new watch - to replace the old cheap one on his wrist that kept stopping. Well it wasn't exactly new, she had seen it in an antique shop window but she knew instantly that he would love it.

She had once seen him take an old pocket watch out of his sock drawer, when he thought she was sleeping. He then sat on the edge of the bed for hours rubbing his thumb over its cover. It was one the few times that she ever saw tears in his eyes. Curious, she got it out the next day when he was at work and looked at it more closely. The cover was scorched black, as if hit by a bolt of lightning, the crystal was broken. The watch had constellations on its face in a field of midnight blue, and had odd runes etched around the outside. Even with the damage, it was beautiful, only it no longer ran - its hands permanently frozen on two minutes to midnight.

The wristwatch she had spotted was not nearly as ornate, but it had an air of age and quality to it, and it had two little tiny green emerald chips at the twelve and six hour marks. The emeralds were tiny, green, and glittery. They fit the bill. But no! Not the watch! She had scrimped and saved pennies for months to have enough to buy him something special for their first Christmas together, "…but wait a minute! How do you know what in it?"

"I peeked." he shrugged.

"**YOU WHAT!**" she thundered advancing threateningly.

"I… um… peeked?" he retreated with discretion to a safe distance. "Don't you know better than to leave a curious man alone in a tiny flat with a gift wrapped box?"

"Apparently… it is one of those things _**I forgot!**_"

"Ah... don't be mad Rosie… and it turns out better this way!" Jimmy said brightly. "At least I got a chance to wear and enjoy _my_ gift for a while, unlike you and yours."

"You… you WORE IT _ALREADY_!"

"…well... just once… or... or twice… Okay! Okay! Three times, but that was definitely it. Besides, I rewrapped really carefully after each time. See? Even the tape isn't torn!" He pointed out proudly.

"I'll give you torn…" Rose growled as she ripped the little box out of his hands and opened it. Taking the watch out of the box, she dropped it on the floor and stomped on it with a vengeance. "…here I am twenty months pregnant, on my feet forty hours a day, all to surprise you, and for what? With a non-surprise-surprise, that's what!"

"Hey Rose? … Honey? … Sweetie-pie?" Jimmy cajoled to get her attention. "I think you have properly destroyed it enough to get out the green sparklies. Haven't you?"

"Oh right!" Rose said stopping her tirade, as he leaned down to pluck the remains of the gift off the floor and drop the two emerald chips in her palm.

"I'm sorry I peeked and ruined your surprise. I was just so excited, and you know me and anything wrapped up with a bow, I just can't wait to open it. Never could. Probably never will. Forgive me?" He pleaded his case looking properly chagrined.

"I suppose. I could never stay mad at you for very long. Never could... at least not that I can remember. Probably never will... as far as I know." Rose acquiesced.

"Tell me one thing though… why such an expensive watch? I mean, it had real emeralds! We can't afford that."

"I thought that the emeralds would remind you of me every time you looked at it. It was a way for us to always be together even when we were apart."

"Honey, I don't need green emeralds on a watch face to remind me of you. I think about you every minute of every day. When were together, and when were apart. Don't you know you're always in my thoughts? I don't need any other present as long as I have you."

"And I don't need a filmy blue nightgown either, as long as I have you too."

"Well… that gift was really for me too." Jimmy said ruefully taking her in his arms.

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"Like the song says... _'you are always on my mind'_..." he sang in her ear.

Rose pulled out of the embrace a little breathless. "As fun as this is, I need to get back now. Here take all this trash with you and I'll see you later."

"Much?"

"Not much - maybe an hour. Then we can decorate the tree, and put our presents…" Rose faltered "…under it."

"Well, we can still decorate it!" Jimmy agreed with a grin. "And that's the fun part anyway. As for presents? Pfft! Who need presents? I meant it when I said that I have all the gifts I want right here. Maybe you can wrap yourself up in a bow later?" Jimmy said kissing her bulging tummy before he disappeared with a small_ 'crack'_, his smile disappearing last, just like the Cheshire cat.

"Hrumph!" Rose shook her head exasperatedly. "If he keeps up with those pranks, one of these days he's going to splinch that smile right off his face!"

Returning to the classroom, she found Harry industriously finishing the angel's hair. He was a study of concentration, his unruly hair sticking up in back, and his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth, while he pushed his too large glasses back up his nose. The look and movement so reminiscent of her beloved Jimmy, when he was putting on his 'serious' face, that it struck a protective chord deep inside her.

Looking over his shoulder, Rose was surprised at the beauty of his work. Unlike the rest of the kids in his class who would have glued it all on in one big messy glob, Harry had painstakingly glued it on strand by strand. Trimming carefully with safety scissors until the little angel had a flowing wig. He had already painted it as well - giving it rosy cheeks and lips. In one small clay hand, he had glued a toothpick for a magic wand, down the shaft of which he had stencilled a tiny design until it looked very similar to the wand she had used earlier. In the angel's other hand, was a tiny sprig of green construction paper holly with red sequin berries. It was really quite incredible detail work for a nine-year-old Rose thought admiringly. The shorn locks of hair had definitely been worth it to see the look of pride on his face now.

She kept him company while he crafted the dress and wings and carefully glued the little emeralds into place for her eyes. Even though she offered to help him, he steadfastly refused, insisting that he had to finish it all by himself for his Christmas wish to come true.

"There! Holly's all done!" he finally announced, proudly holding up the little angel to show his teacher.

"Holly?"

"That's what I named my angel."

"Well Holly is just beautiful Harry. In fact she's perfect in every way," Rose declared. Harry rewarded her description with a radiant smile. "Except… you didn't put a hole in the top for the ribbon. How are you going to hang it from the tree?" she asked puzzled as she examined the ornament.

"Oh I couldn't do that! Holly needs to be smart. If I put a hole in her head, all her brains will leak out and she might forget all about my wish, so I tied the ribbon around her waist instead. See? It's better there anyway. It won't get in the way of her wings when she flies," he justified with perfect nine-year-old logic.

"Ouch! I see." Rose nodded in agreement just as the clock struck five o'clock, and his cousin Dudley lumbered in the door, a sticky half-eaten lollypop in one hand and a small, slightly torn and smashed gift-wrapped box of candy in the other.

"Mum says I was supposed to give you this Christmas gift, even if you aren't my regular teacher. She says it's polite. I ate one of the pieces. Sorry, didn't know." He said thrusting it at her, and signalling impatiently to Harry. "Mum waiting. Come on!"

Rose could hear Dudley's irritating singsong of _'you're going to get it... you're going to get it...'_ as Harry followed him reluctantly out the door. She sighed again. She wished there were something she could do to help. Harry obviously didn't feel loved where he was, and every child deserved at least that. Suddenly the door swung back open as Harry ran back in and held the angel out to her.

"Will you please take her Mrs. Krueger?" he asked, his large green eyes pleading.

"But Harry, you worked so hard to finish her! Don't you want to hang Holly on your own tree, so you can make your Christmas wish?"

"I don't… I don't really have a tree I can hand her on Ma'am, and Holly already knows what I wished. I told her. So if it my wish does come true… I want you to have my angel to keep forever because if I take her with me Dudley will just smash her again when I'm not there to protect her. So will you?"

"Will I what Harry?" Rose asked puzzled by his wording.

"Will you put her on your tree... for me?" he asked shyly.

"Of course I will!"

"You won't forget?"

"Absolutely not. I won't forget."

"It's really, really, important she flies on Christmas Eve… do you… do you promise?"

"Yes I promise Harry. I won't forget. I will put her on my tree. Way up high, just as you wanted."

"Thank you Mrs. Krueger."

"For what Harry?"

"…for… it doesn't matter…" and without finishing the thought, he flashed a brilliant smile and then turned and ran out.

Going to the window Rose could see him climbing into the back seat of a car just as Dudley reached over and punched him in the arm hard enough to send him flying backwards to land in the slush-filled gutter.

Dudley yelled out "Mum! Harry hit me!" and a high-pitched voice from the front seat responded by screeching at Harry to quit causing trouble and to hurry it up and get in.

Rose shook her head and looked down at the patched together angel in her hand. Some people never saw and appreciated the gifts they had right in front of them. It was so sad. Gathering up her things and tidying up the room, she turned out the lights and locked the door. It was the end of her last day teaching here. By the time Christmas Holiday was over, her new baby would have arrived, and the permanent teacher would be back. She wouldn't really miss it. Well… except for one small dark haired boy that reminded her so much of an extremely serious version of her very un-serious Jimmy.

During the walk home to her and Jimmy's small flat, Rose clutched the angel in her hand and thought about her little student, wishing that somehow she could help him, and wishing that someday she would find her missing child. She may have forgotten a lot of things, but she was convinced deep down in her heart that if the child she gave birth to were dead, then as it's mother, she would know it - amnesia or not. She made up her mind. She was going to force Jimmy to talk about it once and for all. With her magic starting to come back, he just had to see that she was strong enough now to deal with it, no matter what the Doctors said.

The next several days were hectic ones, getting ready for Christmas and for the impending birth of the baby, and in the hustle and bustle the little angel lay discarded on the counter. Rose had only meant to drop it there momentarily, when she had first arrived home to their shabby little first floor walk-up flat, but right after she put it down, the active baby had kicked all the air out of her lungs unexpectedly, driving all thought but that of breathing out of her mind. Then over the days following, things started slowly piling up, hiding it from sight altogether, until it was finally Christmas Eve and the little angel lay forgotten under a stack of junk mail and unpaid bills, just like its maker who lay curled up in his lonely little cupboard, once again forgotten by his relatives and by Father Christmas.

Cuddled up on a cosy couch with Jimmy in front of the Christmas tree, a small fire crackling in the fireplace, with no more preparations to make, and nowhere else to rush off to, Rose sighed contentedly as he gently massaged that spot in her back that the baby liked to sit on.

Over the past few days whenever Rose had tried to broach the subject of the past, and their first child, Jimmy had deftly sidestepped the topic, each and every time. However, now was the perfect time to bring it up again...

"Jimmy?"

"Yes Rosie?"

"We need to talk… no change that… _you_ need to talk."

"Sure, what do you want me to talk about?"

"You know."

"Anything but that."

"No, nothing else_ but_ that. I mean it Jimmy. It's what I want for Christmas. I want to know. I _need_ to know."

"But the doctor's said…"

"You said it yourself Jimmy, the doctors were _muggle_ doctors, and I'm _magical_. I know I didn't believe you at first, but I do now and I think that it has to make a difference. Now that my magic has started to come back, I can handle it. I know I can, and I need to know what happened before this baby comes. I need to know so I can prevent what happened before, from happening again."

"Don't worry love, it won't happen again."

"How do you know?"

"The circumstances are different Rose."

"You may know that Jimmy, but I don't. Unless you tell me everything that happened, it will eat me alive. Not knowing is slowly killing me. Can't you see it's far worse this way? You must! Don't you?" Rose raised her head off his shoulder, her eyes meeting his as she pleaded.

Jimmy had never been able to deny those emerald eyes anything, so against his better judgment he finally caved in.

"Okay love. Okay…" he said sighing and patting her head back down to his shoulder. "Get comfy. It's a long story. Now let's see… where to start… okay, I got it. A long time ago, in a castle far, far, away…"

"Jimmy! I want the truth not a fairy tale!"

"You want the story - yes?"

She nodded emphatically.

"Then let me tell it my way. Now where was I? Ahem… oh right… in a castle far, far, away called Hogwarts, lived a beautiful princess…"

"Beautiful?"

"Quit interrupting."

"Just asking…"

"You want this or not?"

"Um... yes. Sorry. Continue… you were at the part about the_ beautiful_ princess."

"AHA! You just wanted me to say that again!"

"…maybe…"

"Okay… an _extremely beautiful_ princess... probably the most beautiful princess in the entire kingdom..."

"Only 'probably'?"

"Sorry. She was definitely the most beautiful princess in the kingdom. In fact she was so beautiful that…."

"That's enough. Now get on with it."

"Alrighty… so anyway... there was also a clever dashingly handsome prince…"

"Ooo… modest aren't we?"

"Quite so! I could have thrown in a couple more adjectives like brilliant and athletic but as you say, I _am_ modest."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. Now where was I? Oh yes, the Prince and Princess had many grand adventures in the castle with their merry band of Marauders and eventually the two fell in love, married, and went to live in a little rose covered cottage in Godric's Hollow. However, while the Prince and Princess were happy in their little cottage, over the horizon a dark storm was brewing. An evil mad power hungry wizard, who wanted everyone to bow to his will, started gathering followers and troops. The Prince and Princess knew that living life under the control of the Evil Wizard would not be a life worth living so they joined the fight against him on the side of the light. They faced him three times and lived."

"They were_ very_ brave." Rose said with a shudder of cold.

"Yes they were my love… yes they were…" he replied pulling up a blanket around her shoulders and holding her tight to gather courage to continue. "Even though a war was waging, the Prince and Princess were so much in love that soon they were joined by the most beautiful…" Jimmy's voice grew thick and started to stick in his throat. "…by the most beautiful baby boy…"

"A son? We had a son Jimmy? A little boy?"

"…shush… this is hard enough… questions later… anyway, they had the most beautiful baby boy in the entire kingdom. The Princelet was bright, smart, and happy. He had his father's great hair and his mother's vivid eyes, and the Prince and Princess loved him very, very much. He... he was the best baby... not only in the kingdom, but also in the entire wizarding world. He could even fly his little toy broom at just one year old! He was a natural seeker," Jimmy said with the obvious pride of a father for his first-born son before growing serious again. "Then the Evil Wizard heard about the little princelet and... and he decided he was a threat. And he decided that he had to be eliminated the threat at all costs."

"But he was just a little baby! How could he be a threat to a grown man?" Rose protested in fear for the son she couldn't remember but loved with her entire being.

"Because of a bloody prophecy!" Jimmy swore, his face growing hard. "The prophecy said that a baby born at the end of July would be marked as the Evil Wizard's equal, and the Evil Wizard was VERY evil and didn't want any equals, of ANY age or size."

"But what if it wasn't the Princelet the prophecy meant! Couldn't it have been wrong! Weren't there other babies who could have been it? Did it name him specifically?"

"No, not specifically, but there were other indicators in the prophecy that narrowed it down, such as the child being born to parents who had faced the Evil Wizard three times and lived."

"…the Prince and the Princess…" Rose breathed.

"Yes - the Prince and Princess. There was only one other couple with a child born towards the end of July, which matched the same description…"

"There was another?" Rose asked hopefully.

"Yes, one other couple - the Duke and Duchess. They were very good friends of the Prince and Princess, and they also fought on the side of the light and faced the Evil Wizard three times and lived. Their son was born just a few days before the Princelet. But even with all his knowledge, the leader of the light side, the powerful wise and good wizard Dumbledore, didn't know which of the two baby boys was the one mentioned by the prophecy. To protect both boys from the Evil Wizard, he sent both families into hiding. Each couple had a secret keeper, someone who was the only one who knew where they were. However, the Evil Wizard and his minions…"

"He had minions? Is that like flying monkeys?" Rose asked trying to lighten the dread that she felt building in his voice.

"Ha-ha! Very much so - or at least flying bats," he said darkly. "But quit changing the subject. You were the one who wanted this, not me. Now that we've come this far let's finish it okay? That is… if you're okay. I'll stop if you need me too. But I warn you... if I do, I don't think I can start again."

"I'm … I'm all right. I want to finish it please," Rose said in a small voice.

Jimmy feeling her tremble in his arms asked, "Are you sure?"

"… yes …"

"Okay then here goes… the Evil Wizard and his minions searched all over for the two babies. His minions set a trap, lured the Duke and Duchess out of hiding, and tried to force them to divulge the location of their child. When they refused, the minions retaliated by torturing them with unforgivable curses until they were driven insane."

"Unable to locate the baby of the Duke and Duchess, the Evil Wizard focused his attention on finding the Princelet. He searched across the kingdom and offered great rewards to anyone who would reveal his location. The Prince and Princess thought they were safe because they trusted their secret keeper. He was one of the four Marauders, a brother - Wormtail." Jimmy felt Rose shudder at hearing the name.

"They thought they were very clever in picking Wormtail over the other Marauders, because Wormtail was the one least likely to be chosen as secret keeper, so he was also the one least likely to be sought out by the Evil Wizard for information. They made the change at the last minute and told no one... but little did they know that they placed their faith in the one Marauder who was also the least likely to remain loyal. Wormtail had already secretly pledged his allegiance to the Evil Wizard."

"…he…he was a minion?"

"Yes and a rat to boot. He told the Evil Wizard where to find them. Then in the dark of night on Halloween, he came. The one thing that the Evil Wizard didn't know was that someone else was also there that night."

"Who?"

"Caradoc Dearborn and his American fiancée Jade, they had just arrived from America. Since Wormtail had failed to return when promised - the Prince had used his invisibility cloak to venture out to gather more supplies. That was when he ran into Cary and Jade. On the spur of the moment, the Prince invited them to come home with him for dinner to celebrate their engagement. When the Evil Wizard arrived, he exploded through the door and Cary, trying to stop him, died instantly in the blast. The Prince shouted at the Princess to take the Princelet and to run, as he too fell under the evil wizard's curses…"

"But how did he survive?"

"Luck... pure dumb luck," Jimmy laughed ruefully. "The Evil Wizard pointed his wand at the Prince's heart. However, the Prince always carried his pocket watch in the breast pocket of his robes. The charms on the watch took the brunt of the curse."

"Is that the watch you keep in your sock drawer?"

"Yes, it was my fathers. My parents gave it to me on my seventeenth birthday - when I came of age. It was the last time I saw them alive..."

"Oh Jimmy..."

"It's okay Rosie... I'm okay," Jimmy assured her patting her hand. "I still miss them. It's too bad you didn't have a chance to meet them. They would have loved you."

"And I know I would have loved them too, because I love their son."

"Well enough of that for now - I need to finish the story for you. However, before I do, I feel I should mention that as the Prince was unconscious with near fatal injuries at this point, that the rest of this sequence is just what I surmised, pieced together from the sketchy bits the doctors at the Sanatorium were told when we were left there."

"Go on then, surmise away."

"… _(ahem) _… the Evil Wizard climbed the stairs and entered the nursery."

Rose sucked in a breath through her teeth and held it.

"The Princess and Jade hadn't had time to escape with the Princelet. The Evil Wizard first killed Jade, and then turned on the Princess who was shielding the Princelet. Rosie, are you still okay? I can feel you shaking."

"I'm okay Jimmy. Please go on…"

"Okay, if you're sure..." Jimmy said doubtfully, keeping a keen eye on her. "The Evil Wizard pointed his wand at them and… and they fell too. He then set fire to the cottage and left with his dark mark glowing in the air above, as a sign of his triumph."

"But how? How is it then that the Prince and Princess are still alive?"

"Ah… yes. Naturally you would want to know that part too."

"Naturally."

"Well the originally designated secret keeper, Padfoot…"

"Padfoot?"

"Yes Padfoot, but that's another long story… anyway Padfoot arrived at the cottage just minutes after the Evil Wizard left, and he valiantly fought his way in through the flames. Finding the Prince on the ground floor first, he apparated him out to safety and immediately returned to search for the Princess and the Princelet. When he searched the nursery, it was a disaster zone, the crib had been blown up, and the room aflame with fiendfyre."

"He found Jade's burned body, and despaired at first that it was the Princess. But as he turned to leave, he was stopped by a small sound and found the Princess moaning unconscious. The remains of the crib had completely covered her and protected her from the flames. There was nothing left of the Princelet though. The evil wizard had… had… blown him to bits as he slept in his... his little crib." Jimmy sobbed in a rush of words.

"Padfoot apparated the Princess out just as the remainder of the room crumpled under the heat. He then took both the Prince and the Princess to a quiet little sanatorium in Germany to recover, leaving enough gold to cover the cost of their care for quite a while."

"What happened then?" This part of the story she knew but after the horrendous tale she had just heard, she wanted to hear the comforting words of familiar memories.

"The Prince recovered first. He was in a coma for three years, but finally awoke to find the world and friends he knew gone, but his Princess still safe. It took three more years before the Prince succeeded in kissing his sleeping Princess awake."

"Um... maybe you should demonstrate? It will help illustrate the story..."

Jimmy didn't need a second invitation, and shushed her with a kiss.

"... when he did succeed, all her memories were gone. The Prince set about wooing his Princess all over again, until she finally succumbed to his charms."

This brought a small snort of laughter from Rose.

"Let me correct that… she succumbed to his _irresistible _charms, and then she married him for the second time. And they lived happily ever after."

"Questions now?"

"Sure," Jimmy sighed in resignation, "…shoot."

"Why didn't anyone ever come looking for the Prince and Princess?"

"They mistook the burned bodies of Cary and Jade for the Prince and Princess. No one knew that the pair was there that night, or even that Cary was engaged to be married. It was a surprise, a whirlwind romance, and he just brought her to England that day to introduce her to his family. In the scant articles that I could find in the back issues of the German newspapers, it just said that Cary disappeared without a trace. No one ever knew why or how. There was some harsh speculation that he might have run away rather than fight. No one even knew about Jade, there was no mention of her at all."

"What happened to Padfoot?"

"I don't know. After he left us at Hospital, he never returned. I couldn't find any articles about him. I'm afraid that the Evil Wizard took him out too. Coverage in German muggle papers didn't really have much news of the wizarding world in England. There was a report of a dozen or so muggles killed the next day, that I thought might have been related to Padfoot disappearing, but the reporter said it was being attributed to a gas line explosion or some such thing. I found that small article about Cary just by chance. It was only there because his relatives were using every resource, even muggle ones, to search for him because they didn't believe he'd run."

"What about the German wizarding newspapers?"

"They might have had something, but I couldn't very well go into the Wizarding world to find out could I? Everyone thought we were dead and while we were still recovering, it was safer to let it stay that way."

"Is it time to go back now? Maybe if I see Hogwarts, I'll remember the rest myself."

"Maybe... Now that you have your magic back, it's going to be harder to keep hidden. Especially until you have yours under control. Hogwarts might just be the place for that. And I would like to know what happened to Padfoot, and to let Cary's folks know what really happened to him and Jade, and that he died a hero, not a deserter."

"You know Jimmy… I can feel the memories right there, just under the surface… just like… just like my magic." Rose fingered her wand thoughtfully and remembered the warm tingly feeling as her magic returned while fixing the angel ornament.

"OH NO!" Rose gasped and sat up straight, staring at the Christmas tree.

"What is it? Is the baby coming?"

"NO! THE ANGEL!"

"The angel?"

"The ornament! The angel ornament! I promised to put it on the tree. I almost forgot and its Christmas Eve, and I can't blame this one on amnesia!" Rose got up and started tossing things around in a frantic search. "It's got to be here somewhere! Help me look!"

Twenty minutes later, the small flat looked like a whirlwind had blown through it, but the little ornament was held high in Jimmy triumphant hand. "Got it!" he crowed, happy to see Rose smiling again.

"Put it at the very top Jimmy, as high up as you can reach."

"The kid really did a nice job on it. It's got a wand and everything."

"Yes he did." Rose agreed, steadying him as he stretched up to hang the ornament precariously from the highest limb.

"Hey! What's this?" Jimmy asked as a small piece of tightly folded paper, tied shut with a string, dislodged and fell from the ornament when it started to swing after he let go of it.

"Likely it's his Christmas wish, better put it back."

"But shouldn't we read it first?" Jimmy asked, incredulous that she would even consider passing up the opportunity to open up a secret closed shut with a string tied into a bow.

"… probably not..." Rose hesitated between safeguarding the little boy's privacy and her curiosity to find out what he might have wished for that was so important to him.

"Ah... come on Rosie-posy! You really like this kid, and maybe it'll be something we can grant. It'll be fun! We can pretend to be Christmas elves!" Jimmy cajoled.

"… well…"

"Pleeeeaaaasssseeee?" he wheedled dropping down to his knees in front of her with hands clasped to plead. Then, putting on his most charming puppy dog eyed look he added, "Look! It even has a bow! And you know me and bows…"

"But it might not be something that we _can _fulfil. You should read his essay first. You'll see what I mean."

"_THE_ essay? The one that caused all the problems?"

"Yes - _THE_ essay." Rose affirmed, pulling the paper out of her school satchel. "I brought it home with me. It just seemed too personal to leave behind where just anyone might find it."

Jimmy was quiet as he silently read it through to himself. "The kid is nine?"

"Yes."

"Then he's about the same age our son would have been."

"You know he reminds me a lot of you Jimmy."

"The kid? He does? How?"

"Oh I don't know... just the expression on his face sometimes. His smile is a tiny bit lopsided - just like yours. And there is how he moves his hands, and then how his hair sticks up in the back… just like yours." She said fondly running her fingers through his hair.

"You know the hair is my trademark… not sure I like this kid encroaching on my turf."

"Your turf?"

"Yeah... first he goes after my woman… and then my hair… what's next?"

"Excuse me! _Your_ turf? _Your _woman?"

"Well… yeah…" Jimmy replied as Rose whacked him with a pillow. "Hey! Watch it! I'm sorry… I'm sorry."

"You ought to be!"

"I am! I am! But I still want to read the kid's wish," he whined. "I didn't like what you told me about his bully of a cousin, and that bit about the cupboard bothers me."

"Cupboard?"

"Yeah Hon… didn't you read the whole essay?"

"Yes, to the class. But I admit I was so distressed, when I realized how much I was embarrassing him, that I don't remember all the words."

"At the very end, he said that then he '_wouldn't be stuck in a cupboard all alone anymore'. _I don't like the sound of that at all. Why would he be stuck in a cupboard? Do you think his cousin shoves him in one from time to time? Ha-ha! Like the time the Marauders locked Snape in the Gryffindor cloak closet for spying on us?"

"You did WHAT!"

"It was all in good… fun?" he faltered at the dark look on her face.

"Did Sev have '_fun'_ too?"

"Well… probably not… but then you see I was just jealous and..." he tried to justify. "Hey, wait a minute now! You remember Snape just like that?" he snapped his fingers. "It took you an _entire year_ to remember me!"

"Jealous again?" She teased, then seeing the hurt look on his face added, "It's just that things are starting to come back a little. I'm sorry I gave you such a bad time for an entire year."

"Well, it wasn't_ so_ bad… and wooing you all over again was kind of fun. Besides the first time it took me seven years, so I guess doing it in one the second time around, wasn't bad at all."

"Now you're the one changing the subject… back to Sev and the cloak closet."

"That was when you were friends with him, and wouldn't even talk to me. I guess we were bullies - just like this kid's cousin. When we go back, I'll have to apologize to Snape for that. I don't like bullies, and I am ashamed to admit I was ever one too." Jimmy said sheepishly. "But what do you think it means for this kid - the cupboard?"

"I don't know Jimmy... but I think I like your suggestion about being Christmas elves for him. Until we go back to the wizarding world, we don't have money to spare, but we might be able to do something small. After all, he didn't really ask for much from Father Christmas, and from some of the comments he made while we were working on his ornament, I don't think he'll be getting anything at all from his relatives."

"Not much love to spare there, huh?"

"No," Rose shook her head thoughtfully. "Not that I've seen anyway."

"So what shall we get him to make up for it?"

"I bet I have an extra notebook and some coloured pencils and maybe even some drawing paper around here somewhere. Then there is that old Winnie-the-Pooh storybook on the shelf that one of the previous tenants left. He might like that… and look here! I can reuse this bit of wrapping paper from the box my nightgown was in, it's not too wrinkled… and here is some ribbon to tie it with!" Rose flushed with excitement as she started rifling through the haphazard piles in her treasure hunt.

"Er... what about this last wish?" Jimmy asked holding out the little folded square of paper with the string bow slightly undone.

"You're right Jimmy… let's read the last wish too."

"That's the Marauder's Christmas spirit!" Jimmy crowed gleefully in anticipation as he finally got his way.

Settling Rose down next to him on the comfy couch, he tucked the blanket around her feet while she wrapped the little pile of gifts. Fingering the little square of paper contemplatively, he stopped tugging at the string as something was bothering him.

"How are we going to get the gifts to him? Do you know where he lives?"

"Oh! I hadn't thought about that. I don't know." Rose admitted suddenly looking deflated.

Jimmy thought fast to come up with a solution to perk her back up.

"Well… I supposed after Christmas break is over, you could take them to the school and tell him that Father Christmas got confused and left his presents at our house."

"That's silly! He'd never believe it."

"Sure he would... after all he asked you to hang his Angel ornament was on our tree. We could just say that Father Christmas saw it, and he thought he was... er... I don't know... sleeping over?"

"That's thin Jimmy... really thin... but better late than never, right?"

"Right! Now let's see what else he wants..." Jimmy said unfolding the tight little square of paper and beginning to read out loud to Rose…

_Dear Christkind,_

_I'm writing to you this year instead of Father Christmas, because I've asked him every year and he won't grant me my wish. He thinks I'm bad, so he only brings gifts to Dudley. But since you're in heaven with my parents, instead of the North Pole, I thought maybe you could talk to them and they could tell you that I've tried to be extra good this year. Mrs. Figg says she is sure they are watching over me from heaven, so they would know it's true. So you can ask them, okay?_

_Anyway, I asked my Christmas Angel to fly this wish up to you, so in case you do think I was good enough, you would know what I want for Christmas. I know you can't bring my mummy and daddy back to me since they died in a car crash and everything, so I was wondering if you could please take me to them instead. Please? All I want for Christmas is to die so I can be with my family again. I just want to go home. _

_Thank you. Sincerely - Harry James Potter_

"Oh Merlin!" Jimmy swore jumping up, his face pale and his hands shaking.

"Where does he live Rose? WHERE?"

"I told you Jimmy… I… I don't know…"

"Well we've got to find out! Don't you see? It has to be him! It just has too! You said he had hair just like mine and he's nine, and his name is _Harry James Potter!_"

At the confused look on his wife's face, Jimmy knelt down, took her hands in his, and looked deep into her vivid emerald green eyes.

"If you're ever going to remember the past, please… let it be now. Your name is…?"

"Rose Krueger," she replied promptly. "That's the one thing I didn't forget." Then seeing the flush on Jimmy's face added suspiciously, "…or did I?"

"No… it _is _Rose… it's just that 'Rose' isn't all of it…" he said taking a deep breath, "…it's really Lily Rose Evans Potter. And I'm James Potter."

"Potter? But I thought our name was Krueger…?"

"When I came out of the coma the nurses were calling me 'Herr Krueger'. Krueger is the German equivalent of the English name Potter. Padfoot must have given them that name to protect us until we woke up. It was handy for our disguise so I just kept using it as our last name. When they asked me what your first name was I gave them your middle name instead, since you were a little out of it."

"Then I'm Lily… you're James… and Harry is…" As the final piece of her jigsaw memory clicked into place, it opened the floodgates and the past finally broke through. Lily gasped for breath with realization as the details of her prior life spun thorough her mind like a kaleidoscope out of control.

"Yes, we named him after your father, Harry Evans, and after me. Rose… I mean Lily… Lily we named our son 'Harry'… Harry James Potter," he said holding out the Christmas wish and pointing at Harry's signature for emphasis.

"Oh my gods! I am such a horrible mother! He's been in my class for a month… and I never knew? He's right! I _do_ have a hole in my head."

"What?"

"Never mind, the point is that he was right in front of me this whole time and I never recognized him! I always thought I would..." Lily voice trailed off in hiccuppy sobs.

"I think you did… down inside. Why else do you think he got to you like that?"

"… but Jimmy… no _James…_ James, he thinks were dead! In a car crash no less! And… my baby… our son… is… alive! But how could he be? The Evil Wizard…?"

"I don't know… all I can think of right now is that between the time Padfoot rescued me, and when he went back and found you, someone else must have found and gotten Harry out of the house before it burned. Somehow, he must have survived the attack too. Whatever happened, all it means right now is that he's still alive! Lily he's alive! That's all that matters! Now all we have to do is find him."

"Dudley! Dudley is Harry's cousin! My sister! Oh my gods! My sister married a man named Vernon, and they had a baby boy a few months before Harry was born! He's with my sister James! Harry is with my sister Petunia!"

"Where does she live? We'll go get him back right now!"

"I… I don't know where she lives… but her married name is Dursley…"

James ran to the phone book, flipped through it rapidly, but ended up throwing it in the fire in disgust.

"Apparently Dursley didn't list their number."

"I know James! The school! They will have the address in the office. But…"

"But what Lils?"

"… but… we'd have to break in. I had to turn in my key when I left."

"That's thinking like a Marauder! Let's go! I'm not going to leave our son feeling unloved, and wishing to die, for one more minute longer than I have to." After bundling up, they hurried by foot to the darkened school, Lily unable to apparate because of her pregnant condition. It took only a minute for James to get them in.

"Thanks James, this way! And be quiet... there's a guard!" Lily led the way down the hall as fast as her pregnant body would allow, stopping short at the door to the office. Rattling the handle, she began banging on the door in desperation. "It's locked!"

"That's why you married a wizard Madame. We can come in handy from time to time. Please allow me."

As Lily stood aside, James pulled out his wand, performed a quick _'Alohomora' _unlocking spell on this door as well. There was a soft 'click' as the door swung open. Lily pushed past him and did the same to the student records file cabinet.

"You're a quick study," James said admiringly, ginning as he watched his normally tidy wife dump the files haphazardly on the floor in her search for the right one.

"It's all coming back to me. And… I GOT IT!" she returned the grin and waved a paper victoriously over her head, "Number 4, Privet Drive. It's not that far, let's go!"

"And no time too soon Lily, I think the security guard is coming." James shut off the lights and he and Lily ran hand in hand through the darkened halls and out of the school, hearing the guard yell _'Hey you punks! Stop!' _after them. However, they didn't stop running until they reached the neighbourhood play park and then collapsed laughing on the snow-covered merry-go-round.

"I don't think the guard got a good look at us, but he will certainly see the colossal mess we left behind."

"I don't care James. We didn't take anything, so they'll just write it off to a prank. I just want to get my baby boy and go home. C'mon, I think Privet Drive is over this way..." she said pulling James back up and starting to trudge through the ankle deep drifts towards a quiet suburb on the far side. After wandering the identical streets for what seemed like an eternity, they finally found the street sign announcing they had found the right one.

"But which way is Number 4? They all look alike to me. It figures your sister would live somewhere like this. She always did put a high value on 'normality' and being the same as everyone else."

"Look James! There's house numbers! Number 11 … Number 9 … it's this way just on the other side of the street!" They crossed over and continued searching.

"Number 8 … Number 6 … there it is Number 4!" James pointed excitedly. "Their lights are still on. Shall we ring the bell?"

"Let's!" Lily nodded taking his arm as he guided her up the very straight walk of the very square house to the very plain front door with the very large '4' smack in the centre of it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the bell.

From inside she could hear her sister's high-pitched complaining voice and an equally complaining low growling one that could only belong to her husband Vernon.

"Go get the door and tell them we aren't buying!"

Lily and James held their breath in anticipation, and simultaneously let it out in disappointment as the door swung open to reveal Dudley instead of Harry.

"It's my teacher Mum! Mrs. Krueger. Do you still want me to tell her to go away?" Dudley yelled out upon seeing who was there.

"No! No! Dudley... show her in, show her in."

Dudley didn't budge, but yelled a second time to confirm, "She's with a really strange looking man wearing a funny dress Mum! Do you still want me to invite her in?"

James would have drawn his wand, and angrily pushed past his rude nephew at this point, if Lily hadn't put a restraining hand on his arm. "Not that way James," she whispered in his ear. "This is my sister's house. Behave."

"I will, if they will," he whispered back as Petunia Dursley hurried to the door to check on the 'really strange looking' man.

"Hello Petunia! Aren't you going to invite us in?" Lily asked smiling at her sister.

"Lily?" Petunia gasped.

"In the flesh," she answered brightly.

"But you're… you're dead! And you're James! You're dead too!" Petunia said faintly.

"Then I suggest you invite us in quickly, dear sister-in-law. Wouldn't do to have your neighbours seeing dead people loitering about on your front porch, now would it?"

James guided Lily by the shoulders as he pushed her past the stunned Petunia and into the living room, where a red-faced Vernon Dursley started sputtering at his evening being so rudely interrupted. "What's this?" Vernon demanded. "Who are you? You're _those_ kind of people, aren't you!"

"If by 'those kind of people', you mean 'relatives' then yes Sir we are. I don't believe we had the pleasure to meet before, we're James and Lily Potter, and you must be my brother-in-law Vernon," James said congenially, introducing himself, and holding out his hand to shake Vernon's, only to have it totally ignored.

"Right-o…" he said pulling it back. "So… Vernon, lovely home and family you have here… but you look like a man of few words, so enough of this small talk. Just tell me where I can find my son, and we'll be off. He doesn't seem to be helping you with decorating the tree…" James said observing his nephew who had abandoned the decorations in favour of opening a few gifts early. Once Dudley found out his teacher and the funny dressed man were really his aunt and uncle, and relatives - long lost or otherwise - being exceedingly boring, he lost interest in them. "…and might I inquire as to just _why_ he isn't helping? And where is his Christmas stocking?" he asked, noting only three, with the names of the Dursleys on them, hanging from the mantle.

"The frea… uh… the _boy_ is rather stand-offish. He doesn't like participating in 'family' things, so I, um... sent him to bed early. Why don't you come back tomorrow? It would a pity to wake him up now." Petunia hedged with a nervous titter and her back to the hall.

"Nonsense!" James said sprinting up the stairs. "Lily, you sit down for a minute and get off your feet. I'll be right back down."

"I want to thank you Petunia…" Lily started to say as she sat down before Vernon butted in, cutting her off.

"Well I should hope so! Foisting your child on us for _eight years,_ without a single word, thank you very much! You would not believe all the trouble he's caused!"

"I'm sorry Vernon… but I've met Harry, and you're right. I _don't_ believe that sweet boy was that much trouble…"

"SWEET? There is nothing sweet about him! He's… he's…. abnormal! He's a freak! Just like you and your husband!" Petunia bristled.

"Lily! I can't find him!" James pounded back down the stairs, his face thundering to match his tone of voice. "Where is he Dursley? There are four bedrooms upstairs and my son isn't in any of them! WHERE IS HE? I WANT MY SON! AND I WANT HIM NOW!" James ended his rant with his wand drawn and pressed against a vein in Vernon's bulging neck.

"…_Gaaggaaaa…" _was the only sound that came from Vernon's throat.

"Dudley?" Lily asked urgently taking another tack before James did something they would all regret, "… where is your cousin Harry?"

"Oh, he's in his cupboard. That way… under the stairs… where else would he be?" Dudley shrugged nonchalantly before going back to the toy he had just unwrapped, as if having a cousin living in a cupboard under the stairs was the normal course of business for any family.

"_**His **_cupboard?" James said softly looking at Lily with pain in his eyes.

"…under the _**stairs**_?" Lily returned his look, before fixing her sister with an icy glare.

"Yeah… he's been in there ever since school got out. He's being punished for punching me in the arm."

"But… that… that was _three_ days ago! And I saw what happened!" Lily gasped at the injustice, "_**You**_ punched _**him!**_"

Dudley just snickered.

Looking at James, Lily knew she had to act quickly before James did something to wipe the nasty smirk off his nephew's face. "James? Please… they're not worth it… Please… just find Harry…"

James let Vernon go with a shove and ran to the hallway, and upon locating the little door to the cupboard, felt sick in the pit of his stomach. It was outfitted with a small air vent and a deadbolt, both closed and locked. He said a few curses under his breath as he pointed his wand at the lock and it fell away. The door swung open to reveal a tiny cramped space furnished only with a little cot, upon which a small dark haired boy laid curled up on the thin bare mattress. The child was so pale, and so still, that James heart skipped a beat in fear they were too late. He knelt down and carefully scooped his son up in his arms and was relieved to feel his breath on his neck as he held him close to his chest. His pulse wasn't very steady, but at least it was there, and he was barely breathing, but he _was_ breathing.

James sobbed in relief. It had been so long, but he finally had his son in his arms again! Backing out of the cupboard, he carried Harry into the living room. "I found him Lily, let's get his things and get out of here. I don't want him to ever have to come back here again, for anything. You'll pay for this Dursley!" he threatened his brother-in-law darkly.

"Pay? PAY? **ME PAY?**" Vernon squealed in indignation. "YOU, Sir, are the one who should pay US!"

"Pay you for _what_ for Dursley?" James returned angrily.

"For taking care of him all these years, out of the kindness of our hearts… with only a paltry pittance from you or any of your kind I might add. That's what for!"

"Fine. You want money? I'll get you money. Just hand over my son's things and you'll get your bloody money."

When Vernon turned red at this statement, and Petunia turned pale, Lily got out her wand and sweeping it around her in a circle said a summoning spell _'Accio Harry's things!'_ Nothing moved.

"Dudley?"

"Yeah?" he asked in disinterest, not even bothering to look up from his toy this time.

"Where are your cousin's things?"

"What things?"

"You know… his clothes… his books… his toys?"

"Freaks don't have no things." Dudley replied matter-of-factly.

"Any..." Lily automatically corrected him, before realizing what he said. "What do you mean… he doesn't have _any_ things?"

"Mum and Dad say that freaks don't deserve nothin' because they're bad. But I'm so good that get extra!"

"Oh really?" Lily replied raising her eyebrows, her emerald green eyes flashing dangerously in anger.

"Come on Lily…" James said softly, cuddling his son tighter, "… you were right. They aren't worth it. We have Harry back, that's what matters. I think sooner we get him out of here the better."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish I say!" Petunia spat out. "Take him and go. We never wanted him in the first place! This has never been his home!"

"We will," Lily said sadly, as she got up and went to stand beside James and Harry. "You know Petunia, no matter what has come between us, I still love you and I always will. You're my big sister. If our situations had been reversed, I would have treasured being able to raise Dudley for you. I'm sorry you didn't feel the same way. I'm ready now James… let's take our son home."

"With pleasure my love," James said holding Harry close to him with one arm, and Lily close with the other. Without another word, the little family turned as one and left. As they crossed the threshold, the wards silently fell from Number 4 Privet Drive.

"Let me hold him." Lily pleaded as soon as they were back safe in their own little cosy flat. James settled her on the comfy couch and sat down next to her, with Harry sandwiched snugly in between, then tucked the soft warm blanket around all three of them. Lily felt Harry's forehead and raised her worried eyes to James. "Is he alright James? He's so pale and cold."

"I think so Lily… I just don't think they've fed him lately. They locked him in that cupboard without even any water. From the look on your sister's face, I'd say they forgot he was even in there until we showed up. We just need to warm him up, and then get some food and water into him. He's going to be okay… but I think we got there just in time to make sure that his last Christmas wish really wasn't his last."

"Oh James… what if… what if we hadn't read the wish? What if we hadn't made it in time? By the time they remembered him, it might have been too late! It had already been three days!"

"But we did Lily, we did."

"Thanks to a Christmas angel." Lily said brushing the hair from his face, and after giving him a long lingering kiss, bent her head down to give the top of Harry's head a matching one.

"I guess I don't mind the kid encroaching on my turf after all," James said fondly adding his kiss to hers, "…maybe we ought to cuddle a little closer? Warm him up a bit faster?" he added hopefully.

"Maybe… but only for a few minutes. I think we'll need to leave again very soon."

"Leave? But we just got Harry home!"

"True, but Harry had one more wish on his list, and I think someone else wants to be the one to grant it."

"I thought we had all the wishes covered... paper, pencils, paperback, and of course the biggie… parents… what else was there?"

"A baby sister to play with," she replied tenderly. "I think that Holly Jade Potter … wants to join us too."

"…baby sister? It's a girl? Are you sure? And she's coming? Now?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, and a very BIG yes!"

While Lily and James exchanged kisses over his head, Harry reached up and straightened his glasses. He had started to drift back into consciousness when he heard his teacher's voice in his aunt's living room. However, it had felt so nice to have the tall man's arms wrapped protectively around him, and the man smelled so comfortingly familiar, that he hadn't wanted to say anything. He was afraid if he did, the man might realize what he was doing and put him back in the cupboard and leave him there. So he kept his mouth closed, his eyes shut tight, and pretended to sleep.

Harry wasn't sure where he was anymore, after all the shouting was over, his teacher and the tall man had left his relative's house and had accidentally taken him with them. Now all he knew was that he was somewhere warm and comfy, and that he _definitely _wasn't in his lonely little cupboard anymore. Better yet, he couldn't hear Dudley or Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon at all! As his eyes came into focus, a flutter of snowy white wings from the top of a tree, decorated with strings of popped corn and cranberries, caught his eye. His patchwork angel, with her flowing red hair and diaphanous blue gown aglow in the firelight, sent him a sparkling emerald green wink.

He mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the little angel and then sighed contentedly as he snuggled back down between his teacher and the tall man. They said that they were his mummy and daddy, and that they were even going to give him a baby sister to play with!

His angel had helped his Christmas wish come true.

Everything was perfect.

He had a family.

He was home.

_~fin~_


	3. A Patchwork Valentine

**A ****Patchwork Valentine **

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else that may seem familiar. In fact, I own less and less every day.

Author: DracaDelirus

Dedication: For my friend Jack-who-keeps-changing-her-name, but who has been giving me vocabulary lessons and who supplied the definitions for the true meaning of friendship and love. Thank you Jack! :) And always for my friend Swanpride who wanted a sequel next Christmas to Patchwork Angel. Not sure about next year so I thought I better do it now. Didn't want to disappoint.

Explanation: Since this Valentine's Day story sequel isn't really a stand alone by itself one-shot (because parts of this don't make sense without the Christmas one first), I added it as a second chapter to my Christmas story and changed the name of the Christmas one to 'Patchwork Wishes' to include both together. Sincere regrets if this was the wrong way to post it when I had already marked the Christmas one as complete. If this is against any FF rules please let me know so I can fix it.

_My Valentine Wish_

_Tokens of love here and there  
Vivid __pink and red hearts  
For sale everywhere.  
Greeting cards and confections too  
Lots of tasty treats  
For you-know-who!_

_Valentines with hearts and lace  
Bearing poetic words  
Of a warm embrace.  
These I'd buy for you with care __  
Choosing the perfect one  
No expense I'd spare._

_Alas, __fortune is not my friend  
With empty pockets  
I must now contend.  
Since I can't buy you valentines,  
My humble offer  
Is this wish of mine._

_My __Valentine wish for you  
Is love and happiness  
To help see you through.  
May you be able to face  
Whatever fate brings you  
No troubles to chase._

_May you be healthy and wise  
And enjoying your life __  
Good friends at your side.  
Just one thing please, if you have time…  
Could you also be  
My Valentine? _

_- Happy Saint Valentine's Day! -  
DracaDelirus_

**Patchwork**** Valentine Patchwork ValentinenitnelaV krowhctaP enitnelaV krowhctaP**

"Ugh! Gerroff me!" Harry's muffled shouts could be heard coming from underneath the hulking lump that was his cousin Dudley. Harry tried to stifle his rising anger as he remembered his mum and dad's warning about not getting too angry and accidentally using magic against 'people-who-don't-deserve-it-because-they-don't-know-any-better-than-to-be-idiots', in other words his cousin Dudley.

NOT that Dudley didn't deserve it, oh NO! He certainly DID! However, Harry was just getting used to having parents around and he didn't want to disappoint them so soon. Besides, he would have plenty of time for that later when he was a teenager.

The bane of Harry's existence, Dudley, who was ever the opportunist, was again sitting atop his younger and smaller cousin, again eating Harry's lunch, although enjoying it quite a bit more than he had two months ago.

This time he was licking his lips over a thick juicy roast beef sandwich, a thermos of rich hearty soup, a shiny red apple, and fresh homemade biscuits. Instead of a stale piece of bread with cheese of questionable quality - that had previously been his cousin's usual lunchtime fare. This was much better pickings! In Dudley's astute culinary estimation, having an aunt back from the dead who liked to cook was not such a bad thing at all, no matter what his parents said.

"Shuddupshrmp!" Dudley mumbled. He had already downed the soup and was now trying to cram as much of the sandwich into his mouth in one bite as he could.

"Illgerroff whenifeellikkit _(cough… cough… cough...)_"

WHACK!

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you that it isn't polite to talk with your mouth full of someone else's lunch?" a slightly hoarse yet quietly authoritative voice queried. Its owner roughly pulled the young blond boy to his feet and dislodging the bit of sandwich from his windpipe in one swift efficient movement.

"HEY! Whadda' do that for? Ruined a perfectly good sammich!" Dudley whined, not the least bit appreciative of the sudden influx of oxygen into his lungs, but instead seemed more dismayed at the loss of the food.

'_I'm beginning to wonder that myself...' _R.J. thought to himself as he critically surveyed the ungrateful young man.

"Because, if I had let you choke to death I would have been found derelict in my duties as Playground Monitor," he returned dryly as the bell started ringing in the distance.

'…_and I need the job. Otherwise, I might have let you choke you little bully…' _

"Now I suggest you return to the classroom. Lunchtime is over. You too, boys… all of you, back to class," he said including the rest of the crowd of nine-year-olds that had been encircling the other two on the ground, cheering on Dudley.

"But… but I'm not done eating my lunch! I'll starve!" Dudley protested vehemently.

"You mean you are not done eating _Harry's_ lunch. I saw you finish your own ten minutes ago. I happen to know that they serve a very balanced meal in the school cafeteria geared towards preventing the starvation of the student body. Now march young man!" Mr. Wolfe ordered, with a tone that meant there was no room for argument, as he pointed towards the building.

As the blonde boy stomped off in a huff towards the school building, he turned and made a rude gesture before he hurried to catch up to his friends. R.J. Wolfe just shook his head in disgust, and then turned to scrutinize his other charge, Dudley's cousin - Harry Krueger. Harry had rolled over and was now lying on his back on the tarmac with his eyes closed, glasses askew, and a new scrape across the end of his nose. Other than spitting out bits of gravel, he was making no sound.

"Are you okay Harry?" R.J. asked with concern at how quiet the small boy was, wondering now if Dudley hadn't done some true physical damage, other than the minor scrapes he could see.

"Yeah… I'm fine… thanks Mr. Wolfe." The small boy said softly as he opened his brilliant green eyes and looked up with a pained expression into the eyes of his teacher.

'_Merlin! The __colour of those eyes takes me back…' _R.J. started to think with a start then shook the melancholy memory out of his head and concentrated on the boy instead.

"Then why the distressed look?"

"I just told myself I wasn't going to let Dudley get the best of me again, and he did it anyway." Harry replied in frustration.

"Again? You mean he's done this before?"

"All the time." Harry sighed as he sat up and brushed himself off.

R.J. readily sympathized with the boy as he could recognize the universal sound of the sigh-of-the-long-suffering-and-unfairly-persecuted-underdog from his own personal experience.

"Taking your lunch? Or sitting on you?" he asked, half way amused at the thought of having found this much in common with a young muggle.

"Both," Harry answered and peered up curiously at the teacher.

Before this school year, hardly any other teacher, or any adult for that matter, had ever seemed to care what Dudley did to him. Then his teacher at Christmas took him home to live with her and her husband, and they were now doing their best to make up for lost time in that regard. However, the sensation of someone, anyone, actually noticing or caring anything about him was still new and a bit uncomfortable.

"Well, we'll see if we can't put a stop to that. Sorry I didn't see what was happening soon enough to rescue your soup and sandwich but at least the apple and biscuits are okay." R.J. picked up the discarded lunch sack and took stock of its remaining contents before handing it over.

"That's okay Mr. Wolfe. I'm not used to eating lunch anyway, at least not much anyway. This is plenty."

"What do you mean you 'aren't used to eating lunch'?"

"Dudley normally eats it, and it used to be when he didn't, it wasn't very good anyway. I don't think Aunt Petunia really liked to make me lunch. I guess it was too much of a burden – she was always very busy." Harry made it sound like an apology.

"Doesn't Dudley eat the hot lunch from the cafeteria?"

"Yeah…"

"So then why don't you?"

"Well before… Uncle Vernon didn't like to waste money on me, and I didn't have any money of my own, so..." Harry shrugged as if he didn't really see the inequity. "Besides it doesn't matter now. I have a mummy now, and she likes to make me lunches!" He finished smiling at the thought.

"That's right… when I started I read all the files to acquaint myself with the students. I noticed that on all your records your last name was erased and changed to 'Krueger'."

Harry nodded to confirm the facts.

"Wasn't that the name of your substitute teacher just before the Christmas break?" and at the enthusiastic nod from the boy he added, "So… you were recently adopted then?"

"Yeah!" Harry said brightening up considerably. "And now I have a real mum of my very own, and a real dad of very own, and a real baby sister of my very own too! I have a whole entire family of my very own!"

"Wow. That is something." R.J. chuckled at the boy's unconcealed excitement. "Why don't you eat your apple while we walk back to class? There's no telling how long the classroom will remain in one piece if we aren't there to guard it from your… er… _exuberant_ cousin," he said with a smile as he held out his hand to help Harry to his feet.

Harry couldn't help but smile in return at the companionable way this new teacher said 'we' as if they were a team and there was some private joke between them.

"Thanks again." Harry said with heartfelt appreciation.

"You're quite welcome Harry," R.J. said putting his hand on the boy's shoulder as they walked towards the school.

It was moments like this when he connected with a student, which made his pitiful life worthwhile he thought wryly. For the past eight years, R.J. Wolfe had wandered the globe, living hand to mouth, and searching in vain, but not knowing where to begin looking. Although he hadn't known where to find it, he knew exactly what it was that he was missing.

He was missing the closeness of another human being, someone that he cared about, and who cared about him in return. He was missing his friends. He was missing having an entire family of his very own. He was missing his home. However, no matter how long or how hard he searched, he couldn't find it. It was always around the next bend. Finally, last Christmas he admitted defeat, returned to England, and tried to forget.

Only this current post, as a substitute teacher at a muggle Primary school in Surrey England, instead of helping him forget had acutely reminded him for what he had been searching. Thinking about it more deeply, it wasn't the teaching, the school, or even being back in England that reminded him, but rather 'who' he was teaching. More concisely, it was teaching one little boy in particular, the one walking by his side right now, that deeply reminded him of all that he was missing, all that he had lost. It was hard not to remember, when the boy looked so much like…

'_Gods! What in Merlin's name is that Dursley demon up to now!' _

He discarded all reflections into his past life as abruptly as the half-chewed sandwich on the playground, and he broke into a run down the hallway. For as they neared the classroom he could see smoke pouring out from under the door and could hear the fire alarm bellowing.

Pushing against the tide of small screaming bodies covered with extinguisher foam pouring out of his classroom door, R.J. started to boil as he saw Dudley standing next to the fire alarm, with the school principal, holding a spent fire extinguisher and looking properly 'heroic' for the lack of a better word, although perhaps 'smug' would fit better.

"That right Principal Speer," Dudley said nodding his head to the Principal with a sly sideways glance to his approaching teacher. "I looked and looked and looked, but Mr. Wolfe wasn't _ANYWHERE. _So when I saw _HARRY_ had lit his homework on _FIRE,_ I just couldn't sit back and let the _ENTIRE SCHOOL_ burn to the ground! _NOT_ after what happened to _MY_ house…" he tacked on with the appropriate look of anguish on his face and an accusatory glance at his cousin, "…so I set off the alarm and put out the fire - _ALL BY MYSELF!_"

"Very good Durbin! To think you had the presence of mind to act so bravely when you were so recently traumatized by a pyromaniac." Principal Speer praised Dudley with a meaningful glance at Harry.

Harry tried to hide from the Principal's accusatory gaze behind Mr. Wolfe.

"I am very proud of you. That is exactly the kind of initiative we like to see in our students. I will make sure you get a letter of commendation to take home. I know your parents personally from the Country Club, and I am sure they will want to amply reward you for your exemplary behaviour." The principle beamed while he patted Dudley on the head, and then turned to glower over his spectacles at his newest substitute teacher and his biggest problem student.

"Mr. Wolfe we will speak about this incident in my office. And you!" he said wagging a finger at Harry. "This is your last warning young man. First, you plague your teacher to the point she had a nervous breakdown before Christmas, and then when she recovers enough to come back in January, you assault her physically! And now - attempting to burn down the school! I am forming to the opinion that your uncle was right in advising me to transfer you to St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. I understand from him that your adoption is not final yet, so he still has some say in the matter of your disposition, and criminal behaviour such as yours will certainly be taken into account when deciding if you truly deserve a family or not. One more incident and I …"

Harry bit his lip as tears welled up in his eyes but he denied nothing and instead just stared at his trainers, trying to shrink small enough to hide from his Principal's wrath, his old self-preservation habits still firmly ingrained. He was used to taking the blame, and people yelling at him for anything Dudley did wrong.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he agreed that it was only fair to do so, because it probably _was_ his fault for being a freak, just as they always said. However, just because he was used to adults yelling at him for things he didn't do, didn't mean that he liked it.

All the while Dudley was puffing out his chest and gloating more and more at the chain of events he had caused. He would show this clueless substitute teacher what-was-what and who-was-who and to not mess with you-know-who! If he could remind his freaky little cousin of a thing or two along the way… well, HA! All the better!

"Wait just a minute Principal Speer, Harry is innocent of this charge. I can vouch for him myself," Mr. Wolfe interrupted.

"Oh he looks innocent enough I agree, but don't let that fool you. It has never stopped him from causing trouble before!" the principal blustered.

"But he was nowhere near the classroom so he couldn't have possibly started the fire," Mr. Wolfe assured him. "In fact, he was walking in from the playground with me."

"He doesn't have to be somewhere for freaky things to happen, just take Mrs. Gryfford for instance."

"Leona Gryfford? The permanent teacher? Why? What about her?"

"He seems to have taken a particular dislike to her, and harassed her to the point she collapsed into a fair raving lunatic, that's what about her! I don't know at this point if she will ever return to teaching!"

"And just how did a nine-year-old supposedly wreak that much havoc?" R.J. was finding it hard to believe that the quiet boy could have driven anyone insane - his cousin Dudley maybe, but… Harry?

"That… _hooligan_… physically attacked her and broke her leg! Moreover, that was just the latest incident in a long string of delinquent behaviour. I have a have a file on him full of all the freakish things he's done at school!"

"Harry? Did you really do all that?" Mr. Wolfe asked giving the nine-year old a very odd speculative look.

'_Freakish things? Accidental magic in muggle-born wizards is often mistaken to be acts of bad __behaviour. I wonder… could Harry be a wizard?'_

Harry just kept his head down and shrugged defeated. "…I guess so."

"See!" The Principal crowed. "He admits it!"

"Hold up there… did you ask him _**how**_any of this happened?"

"Of course not! Why bother? Everyone knows he's a born troublemaker. Why his uncle told me just last week that he was the cause of their house burning …"

"I beg to differ with you - but 'everyone' does not know that. I don't know, and since he is my student, I would like to hear it from him myself." R.J. firmly interrupted the Principal's building diatribe. "Harry? Can you tell us how it happened?"

Harry looked up at his teacher. He really did seem to want to listen to what he had to say and not just assume as everyone else did. On an impulse decided to trust him.

"Well, I was on the roof and Mrs. Gryfford she climbed up on some old boxes - so she could see over the edge of the roof to yell at me to come down I guess. And I guess one of them was old and rotted or something anyway it gave way and she fell."

"What did I tell you?" the principal sounded almost childish in his delight of being able to say I-told-you-so.

"But I didn't want that to happen! Honest! Sure, Mrs. Gryfford is strict, and she's always shaking her head at me, but she's never really yelled at me! At least not mean-like, and I _didn't_ hate her! I didn't want her to get hurt! If I had been on the ground, like Dudley was, _I _would have tried to catch her! Really! I would have! I wouldn't have just stood there! I would have tried to save her!"

"Why were you on the roof to begin with?" R.J. asked gently seeing his student becoming distraught.

"Dudley and his gang was Harry Hun…" the words stuck in his throat at a very menacing look from his cousin who was glaring out from behind the Principal. "…ah… I mean some of the kids were playing… um… hide-and-seek… that's right it was hide-and-seek and I was… er… hiding?" He ended it as more of a question than a statement of fact.

"So you were just playing a game?"

"Yes, Sir."

"But why did you climb up on the roof? Didn't you know that wasn't safe place to play?"

"When I was running and looking for place to… er… hide… I couldn't find a good place anywhere and Dud… uh… the other kids that is, were getting closer and I… I … just kind of panicked… and I… I…"

'_I can't tell Mr. Wolfe that I don't know how I got up there! That it just happened! That it was magic! He'll think I'm a freak too! And Daddy said I had to be careful and not let the muggles know about my magic! He said we were all still in hiding and that it wouldn't be safe right now, and that we have to be careful and protect Mummy and Holly. He said he there are dead eaters looking for us, because of what happened to Aunt Petunia's house… Mr. Wolfe's teeth do look a little sharp… but doesn't look like he would kill people and eat them… but still I better not…'_

"Yes? Yes? You, what? What? WHAT!" Principal Speer finally spat out in exasperation, his patience all but evaporated along with the smoke from the doused fire.

"…I …I _climbed_ up on some garbage cans and then onto the roof because… because I… I-wanted-to-win-the-game-and-I-wouldn't-come-back-down-when-Mrs-Gryfford-told-me-to-so-she-tried-to-climb-up-after-me-and-make-me-and-that's-when-she-fell." Harry finished in one breath after quickly thinking up another explanation of how he could have gotten onto the roof.

"So you didn't _actually_ break Mrs. Gryfford's leg?"

R.J. sounded vaguely disappointed at this revelation. It earned him a dark speculative look of his own from the principal. However, he couldn't help it. For a moment there, he was actually excited he was teaching again. Imagine finding a young unknown muggle-born wizard! Someone he could really teach something meaningful to! However, there was nothing about Harry's confession that sounded even remotely like accidental magic had been involved, now maybe if Harry had spontaneously materialized on the roof… now, that, that would have been something!

Nevertheless, muggle or not, Harry was still his student, and from what he had observed, one that was continually being picked on by his cousin. His slips of the tongue during his tale had not gone unnoticed. As someone who grew up picked on by others himself, R.J. felt a certain kinship and the need to defend him.

"…no…"

"Then why on earth did you say you did?"

"Because… because she wouldn't have broken it, if she hadn't been climbing on the boxes. And she wouldn't have been climbing on the boxes, if I hadn't been on the roof to start with… so it was kind of my fault…"

"So you felt responsible?"

"… yeah…"

"As I said - he was the root cause," the principal butted in.

"To me it sounds as if was just an unfortunate accident, caused by Mrs. Gryfford's own lack of judgment. She was an adult and should have known better than to climb on stack of unstable boxes. What she should have done was had the janitor bring her a sturdy ladder if she wanted to climb to the roof. It seems to me Principal Speer, that Mrs. Gryfford's unfortunate accident was not the fault of the young man before you. And if all you have is similar circumstantial evidence, regarding the other incidents you mentioned, then I would strongly recommend that you remove any trace of them from that file you mentioned possessing - before his parents bring a lawsuit against you for libel and slander."

At the Principal's narrowing of the eyes, and apparent hesitancy to agree, he added, "And, I believe you owe Harry an apology." Mr. Wolfe suggested calmly but deliberately while staring the man in the eyes.

Principal Speer flinched back a bit at the look in R.J. Wolfe's eyes. While his teacher's demeanour was normally quiet and unassuming, he occasionally got a glimpse of something very dark and feral when he looked him in the eyes. It was very disquieting so he tried to do that as little as possible.

If he could have, he would have made other arrangements to cover the class. However, no other substitute teacher was available on such short notice. It had been beginning to look like he would have to teach the class himself, when a fully qualified teacher walked in the front door of the school, out of the blue, asking if there were any openings. At first, he thought it was a godsend to find someone so unexpectedly, almost as if Father Christmas had brought him a late Christmas gift in the guise of a made-to-order teacher, but now he wasn't so sure.

"Ah… sorry… ah…" He started to sputter.

"…_Harry_..." R.J. prompted.

"Right…" he said distastefully and never actually finished the apology. "Now Mr. Wolfe, I suggest you get your classroom pulled together and your students in their seats instead of letting them run amok in the hallways."

"I thought you wanted to talk about this further in your office." R.J. said with just a hint of humour, knowing full well that the Principal just wanted to get away as quickly as he could from the unpleasant scene.

"No… no… that's quite alright. Just carry on. Carry on. Oh, and get a haircut!"

Principal Speer walked away as quickly as he could without breaking out in a trot, and kept up the pace until he had reached the relative safety of his office. Mumbling complaints the entire way about how R.J.'s hair had been much shorter when he hired him and he wouldn't have hired him to begin with if he had known he was going to let it grow so long so fast.

"Well, that's that then." R.J. said halfway to himself before looking down to see Harry grinning back at him and he had to do a double take.

'_Merlin! I would almost swear that he's… but it couldn't possibly be… the name is just a cruel coincidence…'_

"What do we do now Mr. Wolfe?" Harry asked tugging on his sleeve.

"We round up the class I suppose," R.J. said getting down to business. "Dudley Dursley! Get over here!"

"Whad'ya want?" Dudley asked in a surly voice, not budging from where he was.

"That is: 'What do you want _Sir?_' or 'What do you want _Mr. Wolfe?_'" R.J. corrected him, "and what I want is for you to let the class know that it is safe to return. In the meantime Harry and I will clean up a bit."

"Why me?" Dudley pouted at the thought of extending any effort to help.

"You ran them out. You can run them back in. You have five minutes young man. Now march!" R.J. said pointing him to the playground. He watched as Dudley took his time, sauntering slowly in protest, before turning back to Harry.

"Now let's see, why don't you go down to the office and see if they have any more supplies they can spare us. I think that after all the excitement this afternoon it might be a good day to continue our Arts and Crafts project. As it may be the one subject that will capture the classes' attention again. Only our supplies seem to be quite… damp." He observed wryly, picking up a sheet of wet construction paper between his thumb and forefinger as it dripped bright florescent pink polka-dots on the floor. "… and while you do that, I'll mop up."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Wolfe, Sir!" Harry grinned and shouted over his shoulder as he took off on a run down the hallway.

R.J. chucked at the difference between the two cousins. It was like night and day. Harry was already out of sight, while Dudley was still meandering as slowly as he could possibly go. R.J. felt he would be lucky if Dudley returned in five minutes, let alone with the rest of the class in tow. Sighing he turned back to the shambles of the classroom and shut the door behind him.

After what had happened eight years ago, R.J. had vowed to leave the wizarding world behind never to return, but as a blob of foam dripped from a light fixture and found its target atop R.J.'s head he decided a little magic now and then, didn't hurt. Besides, he couldn't think of anything else which could take care of the monumental mess that Dudley had made before the class returned.

He drew out his wand, and fingered it thoughtfully, even though he hadn't used it in years he always kept it close by out of habit. He couldn't imagine not having it on him, even if he wasn't using it, any more than he could imagine simply not breathing. It was as much a part of him as his lungs. Waving it around the room, he cast a _'Scourgify'_ cleaning charm and within a blink of an eye the ruined supplies were in the dust bin, and everything else was dry, devoid of foam, and once again in spic and span order.

Studying the results of the slim piece of wood, he sighed tiredly and reluctantly stuffed it back in his pocket just as the door opened and his students tumbled into class. 'Tumble' being the correct word, as after the excitement of the fire drill, they were all going a mile a minute. Arts and Crafts! That was the last thing he needed when he wasn't feeling his best - a class of twenty-two hyper children armed with scissors and glue. Whatever was he thinking?

R.J. ran his hand through his grey-flecked light brown hair, took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his tired face. It was Friday and he felt absolutely terrible. He just wanted to get through the rest of this day and go home, lock himself in his flat, and crawl into bed and not come out until Monday morning.

It had been a long week and he was not a well man. He normally liked to hole up for several days before, during, and after, he had a relapse of his 'recurring illness'. He was cutting it close this time but he really didn't have a choice. He'd talked with the Principal earlier in the week and told him that he thought he was coming down with the flu, and had tried to beg a few days off.

Even though he was obviously ill and not faking it, Principal Speer had replied that while he was only too glad to let him have the time off, if he took it, he was not welcome to come back. R.J. had been broke and out of work before, and knew he'd get by again somehow. Only he had felt so lucky to have work for a little while, even if it was only temporary, that he didn't want to give it up so soon. Enough money to rent a cheap flat and buy a few decent meals was all that he was asking. Living on ketchup soup and saltines got real old, real quick.

"Class! Class! Attention please!" R.J. called out over the din, "If everyone would be quiet and look at me, we'll get started on our arts and craft project. _OR_ if you would prefer…," he added loudly as the decibel level didn't diminish a whit, "…we can all just take turns reading aloud from our history books instead."

That did it! R.J. thought satisfied as forty-four eyeballs immediately glued themselves to him and twenty-two mouths shut tight. Arts and Crafts versus history? NO competition!

Since the next Wednesday would be Saint Valentine's Day, they had been industriously working on making a special Valentine for someone in their family. In R.J.'s opinion the class valentine exchanges, that the rest of the primary classes were having, were a risky business. There were sure to be some hurt feelings, as a few children were snubbed while others were puffed up by their 'popularity' for having received the most valentines. He also knew that given the option, most of the children would simply buy them, and those that could not afford to do likewise would feel singled out for ridicule because of their homemade ones. R.J. knew first hand, how cruel children could be to each other without even meaning to be, and he had done his best to prevent situations where it could happen whenever he could.

Therefore, even though the majority of the class wanted to do a class exchange as the rest of the school was doing, he had vetoed the idea, in favour of having them make just one very special valentine for someone special in their lives, rather than of a lot of ones that didn't mean as much. He really did think it was a good idea - and any good idea was an immediate target for Dudley Dursley to try and spoil.

"Yes Dudley? You have a question?" R.J. groaned inwardly. He should have known the class troublemaker would have an objection again, as he had every other time they had started working on the valentines.

"Yeah I do... I still don't understand why we have to make some dumb old card. My mum gave me enough money to buy her a 'real' card at the store! Not a stupid handmade one."

"Don't you think she would appreciate one that she didn't have to buy herself with her own money? One that you put a little thought into, just for her?" R.J. replied so firmly it made the questions more of a statement of fact.

Dudley didn't answer. He just slumped down in his desk and glowered. He did NOT want to make a card! It was too hard! Mr. Wolfe had kept encouraging them to 'be creative'. Didn't Mr. Wolfe know that 'creative' too much work? He thought he would get out of it by setting off the fire alarm and drenching the classroom. Then he had brilliantly tried to blame it on his freaky little cousin, but it hadn't worked.

He didn't know how he had done it, but not only had Mr. Wolfe gotten the Principal to _apologize_ to the freak, but by the time he brought the class back in, Mr. Wolfe had also succeeded in drying out the room and putting it to rights again. Dudley scowled at his teacher and sulked. Mr. Wolfe was as freaky as his cousin Harry was. He didn't like it when his plans didn't work out.

R.J. decided to ignore Dudley's pout, something else that Dudley didn't appreciate, as he was used to pampering, and getting his own way. Instead, R.J. concentrated on the rest of the class. Since Harry had come back empty handed from the office, R.J. was thankful that he had stored their works-in-process in the crafts closet. Only by that small miracle, the deluge had not damaged them along with the rest of the supplies. He was really quite proud of the class, as most of the children had put some real effort into their valentines, and it would have been a shame if all that effort had gone to waste.

All of the children without exception, had chosen to make a card for their mother, and without a doubt, of all the children - Harry seemed to be the most excited about the valentine project. Remembering now how he lit up earlier, when he said he finally had an entire family of his very own, R.J. now understood what the valentine really meant to the small boy. This would probably be the first gift he had to give his new mum. No wonder he had worked especially hard on it.

Most of the children (excluding Dudley since R.J. had made the rule that nothing they brought to use could be store bought), had brought additional odds and ends of found objects from home to help beautify their cards and there were some quite spectacular ones. These weren't just a simple heart cut out of paper with 'Be Mine' written on it, and it called good. No, the cards they were working on were literal works of art. It never ceased to amaze him how creative children could be when given the opportunity.

"Class, since the rest of our the supplies were ruined, and the office didn't have any more to spare, why don't we talk about what Saint Valentine's day is about. It is always good to know just why you are celebrating. Do any of you know the origin of the day?"

At a raised hand R.J. said, "Yes, Piers?"

"My dad says it was started by women as another way to make men feel guilty so they have to buy them expensive jewellery."

"Well Piers, presents are certainly a part of the modern version of the day, but it actually started as something quite different. During the Roman Empire…"

Loud groaning rose from the class along with murmured objections of _'No fair! We were quiet so we wouldn't have to read history!' _

Their teacher just smiled at them and continued. "…life isn't always fair, and that is exactly the point I was about to make. Trying to right a wrong is how many customs and traditions start, and Saint Valentine's Day is no exception. During the early days of Rome there were fierce wolves living in the woods surrounding the city, and many a young girl gathering wood in the forest was killed."

R.J. let out a howl at this point to illustrate his story and at the echoing bays from the boys in the class, he immediately regretted his rash impulse to be entertaining. The regret magnified when the topic made its logical jump in the mind of every nine-year-old boy in the room to MONSTERS!

"Were they _WEREWOLVES_?" a boy named Gordon asked with awe. His eyes grew big and round and his jaw dropping open as he noticed his teacher's sharp, sharp, teeth and long shaggy hair.

"No Gordon, they were just timber wolves, but they were very dangerous." R.J. answered trying to derail the subject before it got too far down the tracks to stop it.

"Werewolves are scary! They rip your throat out and tear you into little pieces!" Dennis jumped in to add to the conversation.

"I saw a werewolf once. I ran away before it could eat me," Malcolm supplied seriously.

"I wouldn't be scared!" Dudley boasted. "If I saw a werewolf I would kill it dead! I'd just shoot it with the BB gun I got for Christmas."

"That wouldn't do any good Big D! You have to put a wooden stake through their heart," Gordon countered playacting by grasping his chest and falling out of his chair and to the floor as if he had been stabbed.

"I heard you can keep them away with crosses and garlic. That's what I do," Malcolm nodded knowingly, ignoring his pal's theatrics.

"That's vampires you stupid idiots! You kill werewolves with silver bullets." Piers scoffed.

The boys then all started throwing out remedies for all sort of monsters and things that go bump in the night. This train of thought was going downhill fast, and on a topic that R.J. really did not want to discuss with a classroom of muggle nine-year-olds.

"Boys! Boys! Let's get back to Valentines, why don't we?" R.J. said much to the relief of the little girls who were starting to look anxious at the talk of monsters. "And Piers, there will be no name calling in my class. Please apologize."

"Sorry guys," Piers said sheepishly as he helped pull Gordon to his feet.

"But Mr. Wolfe... can't normal people really become monsters like werewolves? They do in the cinema. We really want to know," Malcolm asked not willing to drop it quite yet.

"People are just people, no matter what ailments they might or might not have. My advice to all of you is not to judge anyone until you get to know him or her for who he or she really is on the inside. There is some good and some bad in everyone. Just remember that everyone deserves some respect."

R.J. knew he wasn't answering their question. Heck he knew he wasn't even doing a good job at covering up the fact that he wasn't answering it, but he hoped that it would at least satisfy them until he could come up with something better. Nine-year-olds may not be all that well informed, but they are very curious and keenly observant at all the wrong times. Though he had left the magical world behind, he still felt bound to keep its secrets, and telling a class of muggle children that yes werewolves, vampires, trolls, and dragons, were all very real, was not the way. However all his speech got was a dark look of disbelief from Dudley, and an oddly thoughtful one from Harry.

"And Dudley, I would advise you not to go shooting your gun at _anything _without adult supervision, and then only in a secure firing range. I'm sure your father will show you the proper way to use it."

'_At least I hope he will.'_ R.J. added under his breath.

"Let's get back to Saint Valentine's Day. To keep the wolves away from their young women, the Romans asked one of their gods, Lupercus, to protect them. To honour Lupercus and to thank him for his protection, they would hold a great feast on February fifteenth called the festival of Lupercalia. As part of the festival, all the young men would draw the name of one of the young women to be his sweetheart for the year."

All the little boys rolled their eyes, and all the little girls responded by batting their eyes.

R.J. chuckled at their reaction. "You might think of it as a kind of an ancient form of..." he searched for an analogy that they would recognize and came up with a new term he'd seen in a pub window the weekend before "... speed-dating!"

All the little girls twirled their hair around their fingers, all the little boys gagged.

"About this same time, there was also a power hungry Emperor who decided that he wanted to build a great army. Emperor Claudius thought that if the young men fell in love and married that they would want to stay home and not fight his wars, so he made a decree that no young man could marry. However, just making a decree did not mean that the young men didn't still fall in love. They did anyway."

All the little boys booed, all the little girls sighed with happiness.

"To communicate with their sweethearts, they would exchange secret notes of love and affection. These notes were the only contact many of the couples had until a very good man, a priest by the name of Valentine, who thought that it was wrong to deny young love, decided to help them. Valentine defied the Emperor and performed the marriage ceremonies anyway. When the Emperor found out what Valentine was doing, he publically executed him on the eve of the festival, to make an example of him to others who would do the same."

All the little girls teared up, all the little boys pretended to kill each other.

"Later when Valentine was named a saint, the festival was moved from the fifteenth of February to the fourteenth in honour of his death, and renamed 'Saint Valentine's Day'. So instead of a festival to keep the wolves away from the gate, it became known as a day of true love."

All the little boys pretended to kill themselves this time, all the little girls let them.

"Today the tradition of exchanging notes of love and affection, in the form of valentines, is still the main part of the holiday. So, in the tradition of the festival of Lupercalia and Saint Valentine, now that we have all made a valentine we each need to add a special message to it, to tell the person we are giving it to what they truly mean to us." R.J. noted a few questioning looks at this statement.

"Yes, Malcolm?"

"But I made my valentine for my _mum_! I can't write her a mushy love note! I mean - ICK!" Malcolm looked positively anguished at the thought. He loved his mum and all, but he wouldn't even let her hug him in public! If he gave her a mushy note… well, there would be no end to it! She would embarrass him in front of all his friends! He just knew it!

"There is no need for it to be mushy." R.J. tried not to laugh at the mortified looks that the boys were giving him. "Besides Malcolm, I think everyone did one for their mum so you're not alone."

"Not Harry!" Dudley piped up. "He doesn't got a real mum!"

"But didn't you say you were recently adop...?" Puzzled, R.J. turned to Harry, but stopped noticing the flush rising on his cheeks and the troubled look in his eyes.

"Nah!" Dudley cut in. "My dad says him and mum gave him away because he was causing too much trouble. He don't really got a dad and mum yet. Dad's says it's not legal. And mum says that now that the Krueger's have him that they're sorry they ever took him." Dudley grinned as the class started to giggle at Harry's humiliation.

"Dudley! I'm sure that's not true. Now let's get back to…" R.J. said sternly trying to stop the conversation.

"Yes it is true!" Dudley ruthlessly cut back in. "Dad says as soon as the Kruegers find out was a freak he is they'll dump him back on us again." He smirked evilly as tittering broke out among the rest of the class.

"Dudley! Class! Enough of that." R.J. admonished and gave them all a very harsh look, firmly squelching the sniggering. "I am sure that Harry's new parents want him very much, and none of your personal lives, Harry's included, are a proper topic of discussion for this class. However, if any of you ever do need to talk about something, I am always willing to listen, _in private_. And Dudley…" he turned his stern look on the blonde boy. "…what did I say about name calling?"

"…mmnomphnamemrcallininclass…" Dudley mumbled under his breath.

"What? I can't hear you. Speak up." R.J. commanded.

"No name callin' in class," he repeated sullenly.

"So…?"

"So what?" Dudley frowned.

"So apologize to Harry."

"Fer what? I didn't call him no name!"

"Dudley! Either apologize now, or report to the principal's office."

"…s'rry…" Dudley said half-heartedly in Harry's direction but directed it more towards the wall instead. R.J. wasn't totally satisfied Dudley had learned a lesson, but felt it was the best he was going to get under the circumstances. Besides, prolonging the conversation would just cause Harry even more embarrassment, and he didn't want to do that to his little friend. It was best to move on - and quickly.

"Before we were interrupted, I was explaining to Malcolm that the valentine notes just need to be something that tells the person you are giving it to that you appreciate him or her. Something simple is fine. I anticipated that some of you might have a little trouble expressing yourselves, so I thought that we should talk about different ways we could write our valentines. Then you can think about it over the weekend and next week we will finish them up. Don't worry. I'm here to assist anyone who needs help with the wording. How does that sound?" he asked hopefully, and was encouraged by the slightly less panicked faces looking back at him. Only one face was still glaring daggers at the prospect, that of Dudley Dursley.

R.J. spent the rest of the afternoon introducing the class to different ways of expressing their feelings in a heartfelt message, from the very basic note of just a few words, to the more elaborate poem with rhymes and meter, and even the Japanese haiku form. By the end, he was gratified that most of them were excited again and were trying to rhyme words, and were looking up fancy impressive words to use in the classroom thesaurus.

Dudley stayed in his seat and pouted. He still did NOT want to make a card! Now Mr. Wolfe not only wanted them to _make_ a card, he wanted them to _write_ a poem on it too! He racked his brain and tried, and tried, to come up with something clever to write on his card. He came up with a big fat nothing. Dudley didn't like it when he didn't feel smart, and this was making him feel VERY stupid. He was just going to have to come up with a way out of it, one that didn't involve any work or creativity on his part.

When the bell finally rang, all of R.J.'s energy was spent. He had made it through the day and, and despite his instincts to the contrary he hadn't killed anyone yet, not even Dudley - although Dudley had pushed all his buttons and he had come very, very close to losing control. Dismissing the class, he called out one last reminder that if they hadn't finished assembling their cards yet, to bring more supplies on their own the next week. Studying the children through the window, as their parents picked them up, he wondered again about Harry and Dudley. How two cousins could be so radically different? Especially when from what he understood from the other teachers, until recently Dudley's mother had raised them both.

As the crowd of children thinned out, he was concerned when he saw that no one had picked up Harry up as the other children were, and that he was walking home by himself. He was half way down the block already. Children these days should not walk alone, even down familiar streets, too many bad things could happen.

He had just about decided to walk him home himself, to make sure he got there safely, when he saw Dudley and his friends, who were just leaving the grounds, spot Harry ahead of them, and take off in a run to catch up. Relieved that Dudley wasn't letting Harry walk home alone, R.J. turned back to his desk to pack up his satchel. Maybe they got along better than he thought. He shrugged as he turned out the lights. Well, he shouldn't be too surprised, he mused. Sometimes opposite personalities could make the best of friends.

Harry, for his part, wasn't so glad that Dudley was running after him. He knew it wasn't because his cousin wanted to be jolly mates all of a sudden, but only because his cousin wanted to beat him up again. He and his gang were 'Harry Hunting' as they were the time he ended up on the school roof. Hearing the pounding feet coming up fast behind him, he didn't even have to look back to know who it was. Being smaller sometimes had its advantages, and to escape the posse, Harry took advantage of every one of them.

Being lighter than Dudley was, he was also swifter on his feet, and could run like the wind. Being thinner, he could squish in between the slats of the fence and take shortcuts, barred to his more beefy pursuers. He arrived home, several steps ahead of Dudley and his gang. Dashing up the stairs he pulled out the door key, strung on a string around his neck as he went, and locked the door behind him once he was safe inside. Dropping his book bag, he leaned back against the door and took a deep breath.

As Dudley slammed into the closed door, he could feel the whole wall shudder behind him. He could hear a muffled 'Just wait till next time!' along with the sound of Dudley stomping down the stairs to the flat below. Harry was out of breath, but other than a few splinters from the fence, he was still more or less in one piece.

"Hi sweetie! Did you have a nice day at school?" Lily looked up from the couch where she was feeding the ever-hungry baby Holly, and smiled at him.

He nodded shyly, and smiled back.

"Why don't you join us and tell me all about it?"

Harry sat down next to her and the baby on the comfy couch, not sure what to do next. He was so happy, but so nervous at the same time. It made his stomach hurt. His mum actually seemed pleased to see him every time he came home. It was such a change from Aunt Petunia who would just sniff at him when he used to come home, as if he had stepped in something bad and hadn't seen fit to scrape it back off.

He really liked these warm greetings, but kept wondering when it would change. How long would it take before his parents remembered that he was just a freak and decide to leave again as they did before? Every day that he woke up and didn't find himself in his cupboard, he prayed that today wouldn't be that day, and he would have one more day with them. At the same time, he wished that if it were going to happen, that it would just happen, and be done with. He felt like he was on a teeter-totter and he couldn't get off.

Lily put an arm around him and tried to pull him in close. When he seemed a bit reluctant, she bit her lip and reminded herself that the adoption counsellor had said there would be an adjustment period, and to be patient. Nevertheless, waiting was so hard!

Truthfully, she really wasn't any better at being patient than James. Besides, as James kept saying - it wasn't as if Harry wasn't their child, he was their own son, their own flesh and blood! When he was a baby, he was always so cuddly and never wanted her to put him down, just as Holly was now. She had her son back in body, now she wanted him back in spirit too. She wanted his heart.

"What's wrong honey?" she asked softly.

"Er… nothing really, I just thought I might be… um… smelly or… something…" he stammered out awkwardly.

He really did want to cuddle he just wasn't sure it how to do it, or if it would be welcome. Aunt Petunia never allowed him to cuddle with her. She kept all her hugs exclusively for Dudley. Maybe his mum wanted to keep all of hers for Holly. Maybe there was a limit to a mother's love, there certainly had seemed to be with Aunt Petunia - one loving mum to one beloved child, no room for more. He had always felt like the odd one out, even now.

He used to dream that if he had parents of his own, that they would live far away from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley. Somewhere, such as on little island in middle of the sea, or in a cabin on the top of a mountain, or maybe in the little rose covered cottage of his dreams with the white picket fence around it and the tire swing.

But the only thing that changed was that now he lived with them in a little first floor walk-up flat, with his Aunt and Uncle and Dudley living directly below in the ground floor flat. He still even had to go to school with Dudley!

At times, when he couldn't sleep, he would wonder if his parents had had his aunt and uncle move in below because that way, if they decided to leave again, they wouldn't have far to go to get rid of him. The thought would give him a big knot in his stomach, and he would get up from the couch he slept on in the living room, and tiptoe into their bedroom, just far enough to make sure they were still there and that Holly was still in her crib. Then he would curl up in the wooden rocking chair in the corner and watch them sleep until the knot went away.

Now the knot was back, and it wasn't even night. It started twisting and turning in him when the Principal was yelling at him, telling him the adoption wasn't final, and just kept getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger, until he thought he was going to sick up.

"I think you smell just fine," Lily said pulling him close anyway and patting his head down to her shoulder. She sniffed his hair deeply and made a small contented sound. "You smell like sunshine, apples, and mischief. Just what a little boy should smell like. So what did you learn today? Anything interesting?"

"Er…" Harry thought quickly. He couldn't tell her about the valentine he was making! That was for a surprise. He had made the grandest, most beautiful valentine he could think of. He had spent hours scouring the neighbourhood looking for shiny fabric to sew on it, and bits of ribbon and lace for its edges. He had even spent hours practicing the embroidery stitches that Mrs. Figg had once taught him until they were smooth and even. It was almost complete, almost worthy of his mum. All he needed was a really good poem.

Thinking about it made him feel better. He just knew if he made the most perfect Valentine that his parents would keep him, and as he thought of it, the knot lessened a little. However - if he didn't tell her about that, what else could he tell her? The knot grew bigger again as he thought about the rest of the day. He certainly didn't want to tell her about the fire and getting into trouble with the principal! She might decide he was bad and too much bother. But what else was there?

Finally, he said hesitantly, "…we talked about werewolves…"

"Werewolves? Really? Well that's unexpected…" The topic surprised her but nonetheless she was glad that he was at least talking and hadn't moved away yet.

"Yeah, I don't think the teacher really wanted to talk about it though, because he changed the subject really fast when Dudley started to talk about shooting them with his new BB gun."

"Well I should hope so! Vernon never should have given it to him to begin with. Reckless and irresponsible if you ask me. A nine-year-old with a gun! It's just soooooo wrong in soooooo many ways I can't even begin to count them."

"…er… M-mu-… er… Ma'am?"

'_He almost said it! He almost called me 'Mum'. Almost! It was so close that time. How I would love to hear him say it just once!'_ Lily's heart skipped a beat. "Yes sweetie?"

"Are werewolves real? Malcolm asked Mr. Wolfe if they are… but he never really answered him."

Lily took a deep breath. "I would like to say no sweetie, because I don't want you to worry about things like that, but I won't lie to you. Yes, there really are werewolves. However, it isn't as you may have seen in the horror movies, or read about in comic books. Werewolves are just people who are ill."

"They're ill?"

"Yes, they have something called Lycanthropy."

"What's that? Is it catching?"

"It's a magical disease that forces the person to transform each full moon into a very large wolf, and it isn't catching - well not in the normal sense like a cold or the flu. However, a werewolf _can_ infect someone who doesn't have the disease, if they bite them while in their transformed state during a full moon. Fortunately, it only happens rarely, because most werewolves are responsible and take every precaution to ensure others are safe during this time. Mostly they are just normal people who are dealing with a devastating illness the best they can. There are only a few werewolves that are truly dangerous and purposely attack as many people as they can."

"On purpose! Why would they do that?"

"I always thought it was because they were angry that they themselves were infected, so they want as many people as possible to join them in their suffering. As if, somehow, it would make their own suffering less of a burden. Truly though, I don't know why. The only werewolf I know is a very kind man, and he would never hurt another human being on purpose. I've never known a vengeful one on a personal level to ask."

"Don't know who to ask what?" James asked as the door opened and he stepped in.

He threw his coat across the back of nearby chair, went over and gave his wife a kiss, tousled his children's hair, then settled down on the couch on the other side of his son, and began passing out the bags of fish and chips that he had brought home for supper.

They ate their meals on the couch now, as they had moved the small drop leaf kitchen table into the bedroom next to Holly's crib and converted into a changing table. In turn, they moved the dresser, which was where the makeshift changing table now was, into the combined kitchen-living room into the table's former place.

Everything was tight quarters in the tiny three-room flat with four people living in it. However, until they could safely go back to the Wizarding world, the flat in the shabby building was all they could afford. Yet, it did have its advantages. It was within easy walking distance of the Primary school, and there were only three flats so there were not a lot of neighbours to worry about.

They were renting the three-room flat on the first floor that was really just a converted attic space. Their recently made-homeless-by-a-Death-Eater-raid in-laws the Dursleys had appropriated the larger two bedroom two bath flat on the ground floor, and then there was the mysterious neighbour who rented out the basement studio. He left early, came back late, and with his private entrance off the back alley, they hadn't even caught a glimpse of him. The only reason they even knew the landlord had rented the flat was because Vernon complained constantly about how noisy he was.

Nibbling on the still warm chips, Lily gave James a meaningful look over Harry's head and answered between bites, "I was telling Harry that I don't personally know a vengeful werewolf to ask why he would intentionally infect others."

"You mean like what Fenrir Greyback did to Moony?"

"Yes. Apparently, werewolves were the topic of discussion today in Harry's class, and he had a few questions when he came home."

"Kind of an odd topic for muggle primary school," James said with a frown ruffling his son's hair thoughtfully and studying the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. "Maybe I ought to go have a talk with that teacher of yours for frightening you like that. Hey Lily, maybe we ought to put that dittany salve on his scar twice a day… it doesn't seem to be fading like we thought it would."

"Oh it's all right… D-... er… I mean Sir. You don't need to talk to him. And I… I kind of like the scar." Harry tried to squelch the panic rising in his throat. _'No no no no no! You can't go talk with Mr. Wolfe! You might find out how bad I was today!'_

'_Aw… c'mon! You were so close! Gods! How I would love to hear him call me 'Dad'. It's just one simple little word. Just three letters, a 'd' and an 'a'… and another 'd' - just one tiny little syllable. That's all I'm asking. Heck! He could just say 'Da' as he did when he was a baby and I'd be happy. But I can't force it on him. I know I have to work on gaining that privilege back. After all, to Harry it must have seemed as if Lily and I just up and abandoned him for eight long years, something like that can't just be forgotten, or forgiven, that easily, no matter what the reason for it.'_

"Are you sure _Son_?" James replied out loud, emphasizing the last word. '_Well… it couldn't hurt. I'm going to call him that every chance I get! Son, Son, Son, Son, Son. Maybe he'll get the idea I'm Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.'_

"Oh I'm very sure! I wasn't scared at all, except… maybe a little when Dudley saying he would shoot one with his gun, because he'd really do it! I was just wondering because Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always said monsters like that were make-believe, just like they always said that there wasn't such a thing as magic. But when the kids asked the teacher - he _didn't_ say that."

"No Son?"

"No. Malcolm asked him if there really were werewolves and he just said that people are people, and not to judge anyone unless you really know them. And then he said that there is some good and some bad in everyone, and that everyone deserves some respect." Harry quoted slowly, making sure he got it all right. "But he never_ did_ say that werewolves weren't real."

"Maybe not Son, but you know Son… I think I liked his answer anyway. This teacher of yours Son must have more smarts than I first thought. So _Son_… what did you mother say?" James asked giving a look to Lily that said _'Whatever you said, I'll back you up.'_

"She said that they were real, and that they were just people who are so ill that they have to lie in bed can't throw pies anymore."

"Um… they can't throw pies?" James frowned and threw Lily a puzzled look for an explanation. She replied with an equally puzzled shrug.

"Yeah. And she said that it isn't catching unless they bite you intentionally when they are… er… trans… transformed because of their disease." He added looking at his mum to make sure he had the word right and was gratified at her nod.

"Oh I get it!" James started to laugh suddenly. "Lycanthropy! _'__**lie**__-__**can**__-__**thro**__-__**py**__' _Lie-in-bed and can't-throw-a-pie! I like it! Come to think of it, Moony never was partial to pie! Ha-ha! He did throw like a girl! Maybe that's why!"

"James! Don't laugh!" Lily chastised him, trying to hide her own smile, as he held his sides that were hurting from laughing so hard.

"Who's Moony?" Harry asked when James' laughter finally subsided. He didn't know why, but he was fairly certain that his dad and mum weren't laughing at him, but at this Moony person.

"Ah! Moony! Well Son, he is one of my two best friends," James answered with a faraway look in his eyes as he thought about all the fun the Marauders had had until the war had split them up. "Moony is your Honorary Godfather."

"Really? I have a Godfather?"

"Yup Son, you do. Actually, you have two. Padfoot is your Godfather and Moony is your Honorary Godfather," James said sitting back and throwing an arm around him from the other side to match Lily's, and making him once again into a Harry sandwich, an activity that his mum and dad seemed to be very partial of doing. "They are both great guys," he added with genuine fondness.

"Am I going to meet them?"

"I don't know Son. I'm not sure what happened to Padfoot, but I am afraid the Evil Wizard may have killed him. After he left your mum and me at the Sanatorium in Germany, he never came back. I don't think he would have stayed away if he were still alive. But all I really know is that I haven't seen him for a very long time." James said with a note of sadness in his voice.

"Oh." Harry said in a small voice. He did **NOT **like that Evil Wizard! His dad said that he was also the reason that he and his mum had been gone for so long. "…maybe Padfoot is just _sleeping_ too? Maybe that's why he left you all alone for so long? Like you and..."

Harry started to ask his question with a shy glance up at Lily first for confirmation that it really was okay to call her 'Mum', only to catch a fleeting glimpse of an unfamiliar look in her eyes that he didn't understand, so in his anxiety, he mistook it for a 'no'. His heart beat faster in disappointment and he swallowed the words. Dudley was right. They really didn't want him forever, and he had been beginning to hope they might.

"…er … I mean like… like you and her both were?" the awkward words stumbled out.

"I hope so Son, I hope so. I hope he is just sleeping somewhere," James said with a slight edge of frustration to his voice as he saw his wife's hopeful face fall at his son's choice of words.

"What about Moony? Did the Evil Wizard do bad things to him too?"

"I don't know that either son. I wish I did. Moony is one of the best, a prince of a guy. In fact you might call him 'The Enchanted Prince'."

"I thought you were the Enchanted Prince."

"No, I'm Prince Charming and your mother is the Sleeping Beauty. That would definitely make Moony the 'Enchanted' Prince."

"Who was Padfoot then? Was he a prince too?"

"Definitely… a prince among men."

"He was more like the court jester," Lily laughed.

"I wonder what happened to them and where they are right now…" James remarked thoughtfully as the room took on a rosy glow of the setting sun. Soon the darkening sky would fill with the bewitching pale luminescence of the rising full moon, and somewhere, if the Evil Wizard hadn't killed him, Moony would be transforming.

The little family fell silent, cuddled together on the comfy couch, each deep in their own thoughts. Holly wondering if now would be a good time to start crying again as no one seemed to be paying attention to her. James was wondering what was happening in the wizarding world and how it would impact his family, especially his children. The thought of what could be out there waiting for them, made him hug Harry even tighter. Lily wondering if the words 'Mum' and 'Dad' would ever come as naturally to Harry as the words 'Ma'am' and 'Sir' did. She hugged Harry tighter too, in the hopes of strengthening their fragile bond. Harry wondering if the value of being able to breathe again was worth more to him than the value of staying snug and warm in his cuddly spot squished between his parents. Parents won.

Two floors below, R.J. Wolfe slipped in the private back entrance to the basement studio flat and barred the door behind him. After installing the additional padlocks and deadbolts he had picked up at the hardware store after school, he affixed a heavy board over the one tiny ceiling height window with thick long cement screws - right over the tacky brocade drape that some former tenant had put up in a futile attempt at decorating. Now that he was securely locked in until Monday morning he felt better, but each small noise he made during his preparations, was protested loudly by the tenants above, who voiced their immense displeasure by pounding on their floor, which made an even louder echo pound through his one room efficiency flat with its cement walls and floor.

However, it was the cement walls, and the private entrance that had led him to rent this particular flat in the first place, so he could really complain about the acoustics. Unless someone was standing in the back alley near the entrance to his flat, the thick walls, and boarded window, should serve as fairly adequate soundproofing to the outside world. Therefore, with the exception of the flat directly above, few should hear his howls and cries of pain as he transformed.

"There. That should do it. And just in time…," he told himself as he downed a dose of Wolfsbane potion with a shudder of revulsion. "Merlin! No matter how many times I have taken this, I will never get used to the taste." After chasing the dose down with a liberal shot of firewhiskey, he put the empty potion vial back in his trunk and noted with a sigh that his supply was rapidly dwindling. This was the final reason that had spurred his return to England.

Wolfsbane potion was notoriously difficult to brew, and there was only one man he truly trusted to do it - Severus Snape. He had tried to supplement his supply on his travels with doses he had picked up from shady alchemists on the black market, but not only were they more costly, they were also less effective. He had had several close calls when relying on them - too close. Therefore, when he saw that his supply was almost gone this time, he gave up his search and returned to England. Now he just had to work up the nerve to go begging to Severus. The sooner the better he thought reluctantly, closing the trunk, he only had enough left for two or three more cycles, and it wasn't as if it only took a day or two to brew. No, it took a full cycle of the moon – of course.

'_Gods how I hate the moon,'_ he thought as he took another drink. Ever since he was a little boy, it had ruled his life. No matter how far he travelled, or where he went, he couldn't get away from the moon. It followed him everywhere.

The only time it hadn't seemed like such a chain around his neck was when he finally had made friends at Hogwarts. At first, he was terrified that his classmates would find out and ostracize him as everyone else had his whole life, including his own family. He knew they loved him, but he also knew they feared him as well. His parents were relieved when he got his Hogwarts letter as it meant an end to their forced duty to him. When they put him on the train that first time, he knew it was a parting of the ways. They didn't want him to come back. No one had wanted him. He had never had a real family, a real home, not until the Marauders, James, Sirius and Peter. When they found out about his Lycanthropy, instead of being horrified they were fascinated, instead of ostracizing him they included him, instead of outing him to the entire school they kept his secret. It was the only time in his life he was truly happy.

'_R.J. Wolfe'._ Who was he trying to kid? Himself maybe. Without the rest of the Marauders, he just wasn't all that good at intrigue. _'R.J.'_ – hrumph! He couldn't even come up with a better pseudonym than just his initials. Maybe he should have used something more classic… like say _'Romulus'_. That would have been funny, and fitting. Romulus and Remus were twins in ancient Roman mythology, which some legends held were raised by wolves in the wild hills beyond the city gates.

'_Ha!'_ he thought derisively, draining the last drop of firewhiskey from the bottle and flopping down on the mattress. _'I was even named after the weaker of the twins, the one that ended up being slain by his brother. Maybe if I had been named after the stronger one instead, maybe I would have turned out to be braver, or at least quick enough.'_

Quick enough to have outrun the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, who infected him all those years ago, that is. Sometime he wondered if it was his fate to become a werewolf, even before he was born. Did his mother have the gift of prophecy when she named him Remus? He felt twice cursed, first by his given name Remus, and secondly by his last name Lupin, which also meant wolf. _'Wolf-wolf… might just as well have been woof-woof. 'R.J. Wolfe'_… such a thin disguise he thought as stared up at his ceiling.

**POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND!**

"I swear if they don't quit that racket soon, I may not be able to stop myself from having a midnight snack." R.J. growled and bared his razor sharp teeth as he rolled over pulled a pillow over his head in an effort to drown out the pounding noise and the dust filtering down from the flat directly above. "Gods! What lives up there? Elephants?"

One floor up a large man with no neck was working himself up into a state of righteous indignation.

"Petunia! I swear the renter below keeps vicious dogs! I knew this was a bad idea. I don't care if it is only temporary until the insurance company comes through. This neighbourhood is_ not_ populated by _our_ kind of people. I will not stand for it much longer! You just march upstairs right now and tell those… those… freaks to put our house to rights! They're the cause it of it! They should fix it! I WANT MY HOUSE! I WANT MY CAR! **I. WANT. MY. GOLF. CLUBS!**"

Vernon punctuated each word by alternating stomping on the floor and ramming the shaft of his putter (the only club he had thought to rescue from the fire) into the ceiling.

One floor up, they rolled their eyes, took deep breaths, and counted to ten.

"Dearest? Do you think it would be too much to ask for a _little_ appreciation?" James asked Lily raising his eyebrows at the yelling coming from the flat below. "After all we could have let them get what they deserved. We didn't _have_ to rescue them."

"Yes we did James. No matter what they did, she is still my sister, and Dudley is still my nephew."

"Well, we could have left Vernon there anyway." James sighed with resignation. "I don't think with all he's fuss he's made these past seven weeks that Petunia would have cared that much if we had."

"Possibly true," Lily laughed quietly as she got up with the sleeping Holly to put her to bed. "But we still need his cooperation until everything is final, and besides he is our brother-in-law."

"No he's not. Vernon flatly denied it, and far be it for me to dispute his opinion. He may be _your_ in-law but to me he'll always be an _out_-law." James stated firmly, gently leaning the sleeping Harry over into the space vacated by Lily and pulling the little sofa pillow under his head. "That is the biggest regret I have about telling them about the flat downstairs…"

"What's that honey?" Lily asked as she came back into the living room and started pulling off her sleeping son's shoes and socks. After tucking the soft blanket around him, she kissed him gently on the forehead, her eyes lingering over his sleeping form.

"Harry still doesn't have his own room. He doesn't even have his own bed! When it came up for rent, I was thinking we could move into that larger flat ourselves. It was only a few pounds a month more, and no stairs. Then we would have had a second bedroom for the kids to sleep in and we wouldn't be tripping over each other all the time."

"But I like tripping over you. It's one of the highlights of my day." Lily said giving him a kiss as well.

"Me too," James said returning the kiss. "But Harry deserves a real bedroom and a real bed after that cupboard." James face grew hard and he shook his head. "You didn't see it Lils, it makes me ill to even think about it. No wonder he wanted to die, and he's no better off with me. I'm a bad father."

"You are NOT a bad father! And I won't hear you talking like that!" Lily admonished him in hushed tones so as not to wake Harry. "Now come to bed. You're just tired. It's been a long week, and you worked double shifts almost every day."

"Just wanted to make sure I'd have all weekend free to play with Harry and Holly." James shrugged nonchalantly as if it was inconsequential.

"See! You _ARE _a great father, always putting your family first while still providing for us." Lily said kissing him soundly and dragging him off to bed.

As the little family snuggled down for the night, one floor below a volcano was seething.

"Vernon! Shush!"

"Don't you shush me! I will NOT BE **SHUSHED!**"Vernon bellowed at the ceiling, his face turning a florid red, as Dudley, eating a doughnut for a midnight snack, emerged from the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Vernon! Please…" Petunia pleaded sheltering Dudley behind her from her irate husband. "…you're upsetting Duddykins!"

"No he's not Mum." Dudley piped up.

He thought it quite entertaining to see his father upset at his new aunt and uncle, VERY entertaining. In fact, he liked to do anything he could to help stoke the fire, because there really wasn't much else to do in this puny flat. His Game Boy, his computer, his telly, and all of his toys had burned to a crisp when their house went up in flames on Christmas day.

The only thing he had rescued was his new BB gun, and nobody would let him shoot it. It just wasn't fair! He'd like his telly back too, just as much as his dad wanted his golf clubs. Until that happened, this was cheap entertainment. If it weren't for his dad's temper tantrums, he wouldn't have anything to do but his homework, and thinking about writing a poem was the last thing he wanted to do with his weekend.

"Still you know very well why we have to stay here! It's the only safe place! You saw those… those… horrible men with the masks and capes! Those… _Death Eaters!_ They could have killed us!" Petunia gasped, turning pale at the memory. "They could have killed Dudley!"

Vernon's eyes narrowed as he contemplated his grinning son, as if seeing for the first time that he was still up. "Dudley! Off to bed young man. This discussion is not for your tender ears."

"Aw Dad! It was just getting good!"

"You heard your father Diddledums. Off to bed, Mummy will be in soon to tuck you in."

Dudley glared behind him as he went to his bedroom. Carefully leaving the door cracked a smidge behind him.

As soon as he was out of sight Vernon hissed to Petunia, "I tell you, they weren't after us! They wanted that little freak! If he had still been locked up in the cupboard _where_ I put him, _where_ he rightfully belonged, they could have had him. Then we would still be in our own home. _Where _we should be – thank you very much!"

"Vernon! You can't… you don't mean that! He may be a freak, but he's just a boy! You wouldn't have given him to those horrid people!"

"Don't you 'Vernon' me Petunia, and yes I do mean it. You would have done it too, and you know it. It's his fault we lost our house and belongings. It's his fault that we're stuck in this rat hole! And I demand satisfaction!"

"And just what 'satisfaction' can you get out of a nine-year-old?"

"I can make his life just as miserable and he's made mine. That's what satisfaction!"

"And just how do you intend to do that?"

"All this 'adoption' nonsense that's how! Seems to me if those two up there," he said pointing at the ceiling "were as serious about claiming the boy as they say they are, they would do it under their own names and leave us out of it. Not put us through all these legal shenanigans and hocus-pocus. Making us out to be uncaring oafs, who would foist their family obligations off on total strangers, when we already spent eight years raising the boy out of the kindness of our hearts! 'Krueger' indeed! I bet they are running from the law or some such nefarious thing. Not fit parents if that's so. Until I sign those final papers I have a say so, and I intend to put a stop to the whole thing."

"Why would you do that Vernon? I thought we _wanted_ to rid of him! With him around we're in danger!"

"Nonsense Pet! Seems to me we were only in danger once he left. I intend to get him back, lock him in that cupboard, and throw away the key. Once I get him back, he's never leaving again."

"But he'll starve won't he?"

"I'll put in a cat flap and then we can just push food through the door occasionally, and not have to be bothered with him traipsing about underfoot."

"But they'll never agree to that! You saw what happened. James… he can be so… so violent!" she said with a shudder.

"If he tries anything, I'll just call those Death Eaters back to deal with him. They wanted to know where the boy was. Didn't know at the time, but I do now. One of them left a card, a Mr. Malfeasance or some hibbledy-gibbledy name. I'll keep the boy for protection and they can have the pair of them, and their blasted baby too. All it does is cry all the time anyway. That ought to satisfy them, three for the price of one. You know what they say 'fight fire with fire. Should hold true for all that thingamagiggy nonsense too."

"Vernon… do you think that's wise?"

"Oh very wise indeed. I will do anything to protect my family from that ma-maj- that tommyrot!"

"Oh Vernon! You're so brave!" Petunia fawned as she led him off to bed, forgetting all about tucking in her son, and never noticing his blond head and big ears quickly withdrawing as they passed by, or the second bedroom door quietly closing.

One floor up, one little dark haired boy heard everything too.

Vernon's yelling had woken Harry up. Padding quietly into the bedroom dragging the blanket behind, he climbed up in the wooden rocker. He could hear the quiet reassuring breathing of his parents and baby sister. He determinedly sat up very straight and alert. It was up to him to protect Prince Charming, Sleeping Beauty, and Princess Holly from the Evil Wizard and his minions, and he would too, even if he had to stay up all night!

Two floors below, Remus was in the painful throws of transformation, clawing at the boarded up window. In his altered state, the muffled talk of Death Eaters could have been coming from anywhere, including his own nightmares.

James and Lily were in danger? It was a nightmare, which he had had regularly for eight years. That Halloween night replaying over, and over, in his head until he felt he would go insane. No matter how hard he tried to change the outcome in his dream, he always arrived too late to save anyone. His family was all gone. James and Lily Potter lost, baby Harry dead by Voldemort's hand, and Sirius falsely accused of betraying them all and then killing Peter to cover it up.

Within twenty-four hours, he had lost everything that had ever mattered to him.

Harry… the little dark haired muggle boy in his class also had the name Harry. Remus closed his blood shot half human-half canine eyes, and tried to push the image of Harry Kruger's face out of his brain but it wouldn't go. He and Harry Potter would have been about the same age, the same dark hair, and the same green eyes. The muggle boy reminded him so much of James it hurt to be in the same room with him sometimes. If only Harry Krueger could have been _his _Harry – his cub - his honorary godson… but he couldn't make it so, anymore than he could save him in his dreams. His Harry was dead. Sirius had told him that himself on that horrible night.

Remus was at the burned out cottage in Godric's Hollow when Sirius had arrived back in a terrible condition. His hands burned, his robes scorched, he was totally physically and magically exhausted. Sirius had tearfully confessed to him that at the last minute James had changed the role of the Potter's secret keeper to Peter Pettigrew. Sirius had thought it a great idea too, until he found out from his brother Regulas, a servant of Voldemort, that Peter had betrayed the Potter's trust and told Voldemort where to find them.

Sirius had rushed to Godric's Hollow, but was too late to warn them of the attack. He told Remus that he had been able to rescue both James and Lily from the rubble, and that they were in critical condition, but hidden safely away in the hands of muggle healers. The rest of his ramblings were incoherent, as he was out of his mind with grief that he had not also been able to save his baby godson. He described what he saw in the devastated nursery, and only finding the burning bits of Harry's crib.

Every time Remus dreamt about that night, it started out differently. In his dreams, he had the foresight to stun Sirius until he came to his senses, but then his nightmares would take over and the events would relentlessly unfold as they had time after time. By the time he thought to do anything, Sirius had roared off on his motorcycle bent on retribution. Sirius' grief clouding his judgment, until his all consuming desire for revenge took possession and transformed him, much akin to how the Lycanthrope transformed Remus each full moon, neither one able to stop the crushing tide of hormones.

Then word came that Peter was dead, supposedly along with a dozen innocent muggles caught in a wizard's duel between he and Sirius. Remus then learned that the Aurors had arrested Sirius and put him in prison without so much as the courtesy of a trial because of his betrayal of the Potters.

Everything was in turmoil, with so many unsubstantiated rumours about James and Lily being dead floating around, it was enough to make his head swim, and people were actually _celebrating_! His family was gone and people were partying! He had even received an urgent message from Albus Dumbledore - the old goat! How dare he try to spin this catastrophe in a positive light! The Daily Prophet reported that Dumbledore hadn't even backed Sirius up when Sirius said he told the Auror's that he wasn't James and Lily's secret keeper, so he couldn't have betrayed them. It was all over their front page - Albus contradicted his claim, sealing Sirius' fate behind the doors of Azkaban.

Disgusted with the whole situation, Remus had never even bothered to read the Headmaster's message. Instead, he lit it on fire and sent the ashes back to Dumbledore via his phoenix Fawkes. He then packed his bags, and within hours of Sirius' arrest left the magical world behind, vowing never to return until he had proof of Sirius' innocence, and that proof lay in the muggle world.

Remus knew with every fibre of his being that Sirius was innocent, but he needed to find James and Lily alive somewhere to prove it. It sounded simple, but the only problem with it was that Sirius was so consumed by his anger at Peter that night, that he never stopped long enough to tell Remus _where_ he had hidden them, only that he had. By the time, that he realized he was missing that crucial piece of information - Sirius was out of reach and out of communication behind the walls of Azkaban.

For eight long years, he had been checking out every muggle hospital on the globe that he thought held even the remotest possibility. He went every place he could think of that Sirius or James ever mentioned having visited, and thousands they had not, just on the off chance. However, he never found a trace of them. Sirius may not have been their final choice for secret keeper but he was by far the best.

Pumped up by adrenaline and his pent-up frustrations, Remus John Lupin the werewolf a.k.a. R.J. Wolfe paced the entire night, smashing to splinters every stick of furniture in the flat, and all but ripping the door off its hinges. Only the multiple locks and deadbolts he had installed hours before prevented it. The dim light of dawn was filtering through the narrow cracks around the boarded up window when he finally fell exhausted to the mattress, which by this time was lying haphazardly on the bare floor, the bed frame long since reduced to toothpicks.

"Too bad that that boy Gordon hadn't been right about a stake through the heart putting an end to werewolves," Remus wryly commented to himself as he pulled an especially sharp piece of bedstead out from under him and tossed it aside. He deserved it after eight years with nothing to show for it.

He had come back to England with his tail between his legs like a beaten cur. He was no closer to finding the

Potters now than he was that fateful night, which also meant that he was no closer to freeing Sirius from Azkaban.

He was a failure... he was pitiful... and he was… hungry!

As the smell of morning bacon sizzling in the flats above him filled the air, his stomach rumbled and he rolled over, ending up on another shard of sharp pointy wood, but he was too tired to do anything about it but groan. Unfortunately, that just set off another round of protesting pounding from the tenants above him.

**POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND!**

"I swear Petunia! The tenant below must be holding illegal dogfights in the flat below! Such growls and howls! All night long thank you very much! I. COULDN'T. SLEEP. A. BLOODY. WINK!" Vernon said pounding on the floor with his club and doing a fair imitation of growling himself.

"Really Vernon? I didn't hear a thing."

"That's because you took enough sleeping pills last night to put you into a bloody coma," Vernon snorted dropping the club and taking his place at the kitchen table and digging into his breakfast. Petunia had loaded his plate with piles of greasy eggs and stacks of burnt toast and incinerated bacon. A second identical plate awaited Dudley, whose heavy footsteps could be heard just getting out of bed.

"Duddy! Come to brekki!" Petunia called out as she nibbled on her wedge of grapefruit.

"No thanks Mum! I'm going out. Be back tonight." Dudley called back as the front door slammed behind him.

"Hrumph! That boy has no appetite lately. Not surprised forced to live in a hovel like this, I have practically no appetite myself," Vernon said pulling the second plate over. To Petunia's look of disapproval added, "Waste not - want not."

One floor up Dudley rang the bell.

"May I come for breakfast Auntie Lily?" he asked sweetly and with his best manners.

"Of course Dudley, I told you that you are always welcome here as long as you behave. Come in," she welcomed him opening the door wide. "Harry was just showing me his omelette making skills. I think it is wonderful how Petunia taught you boys how to cook."

"Oh noooooo Auntie, she just taught Harry," Dudley replied innocently ignoring the looks he was getting from his cousin.

"Why not you too?" James asked suspiciously, looking up from his newspaper.

"Because, I'm too delicate for chores," Dudley smirked.

"Chores? Your mum had Harry cook as a 'chore'? What else did Harry do as chores that you didn't?" Lily questioned, she hadn't been able to pry much out of her son about how he her sister's family had mistreated him. She had only a hint there, a slip of the tongue there, and suspicions galore. Perhaps her nephew would be more forthcoming. He seemed to like to talk - though mostly about himself however.

Her eyes started to flash dangerously as she determinedly took the spatula away from Harry and shooed him to the couch while she muttered under her breath _'…there will be no more cooking for you young man! Cooking as a chore indeed! You're only nine! What was my sister thinking?'_

"Ev'rythin," Dudley responded helping himself to a banana and then proceeding to talk with his mouth full.

"Everything? What do you mean _'everything'_?" James asked through gritted teeth. Even without answering, he knew what Dudley would have said from the frantic way his son was shaking his head to get him to shut up.

"Really it wasn't _that _much!" Harry jumped in before Dudley could do too much damage. "I just… I just helped around the house and the garden some is all. To pay for… well you know..."

"No, I _don't _know Son. Tell me."

"…to pay for my… my keep, and because…" Harry said softly.

"Because why honey?" Lily prodded gently as she passed out the food.

"Because he was always causing trouble! That's why!" Dudley supplied, the glares from all three of the others in the room bouncing off him, as oblivious, he stuffed a big bite of the tasty ham and cheese omelette into his mouth. _'Yes! Much better pickings up here!' _he thought grinning from ear to ear and licking a stray morsel of egg off his fork.

After Dudley finished, not only one but two omelettes (being denied a third by his prudent aunt), James and Lily bundled up the baby, packed a picnic, and took the boys to the play park, where they watched carefully to make sure the 'play' remained 'play'. They had noticed quickly that Dudley had a tendency to edge toward bullying whenever they turned their backs. For the most part Dudley seemed to be behaving himself, but there were a few times when Harry became suspiciously quiet after Dudley whispered in his ear. However, since Harry nodded in agreement, to whatever it was Dudley was saying, nothing seemed terribly amiss.

Lily felt encouraged, as she wasn't ready to give up on her nephew quite yet, even though James was. She was hopeful that with careful guidance, and their influence, that perhaps Dudley might overcome his parents spoiling, so she pleaded with James to try to be welcoming to him too. As he seldom denied her anything she truly wanted, he was currently playing a game of tag with both boys. It was giving her a much needed break from batting practice, even James didn't have a fast ball that compared to hers, and even though he had planned the whole weekend around special one-on-one bonding time with just his son.

For a change, it relieved Harry that Dudley was there, as his presence provided a handy intervention tool between him and his parents. He saw the looks they were giving each other at breakfast and it made his stomach do flip-flops.

Harry had tried so very hard this past month and a half, to keep the fact that he was a constant troublemaker from them. Then there it was - blurted out in front of both of them, in words that he couldn't possibly explain any differently. And while Dudley was the source of this regrettable information, he was also the means to preventing further discussion around it. As long as Dudley was with them, Harry doubted that his mum and dad would ask him to explain further or to make him confess all his sins.

They had already gotten upset when they woke up and found him asleep in the wooden rocking chair in their room. He felt ashamed that he had fallen down on his duty, but he really had tried his best to stay awake all night! He really had! That _should_ count for _something_, he thought, but his dad just seemed angry and his mum sad.

However, when he really thought about it, he felt that he should have known better than to try and get too close when they didn't even want him to call them Mum and Dad, but it was getting soooooo hard not too - as that was what he was already calling them in his mind. So to apologize for sneaking into their room he had tried to make a special breakfast for them, and then Dudley showed up to spoil it.

So far, his mum hadn't let him do any cleaning chores around the flat. She said it was too small to get messy to begin with, and laughed that if even one thing got out of place they wouldn't be able to get in the door. However, Aunt Petunia had always liked it when he cooked the meals so she didn't have to, so he thought maybe he could do that at least to her help out. In fact, Aunt Petunia not only preferred him to cook the meals, she demanded it. Only his mum wouldn't even let him finish that peace offering.

He didn't understand it - how was he supposed to earn his keep, so they wouldn't mind him being there, if they wouldn't let him do anything? Now, with this new ammunition against him… it just made him dread Dudley leaving… kind of ironic.

However, he didn't have to worry. After the day in the park, they were all tired and a bit dirty, so they polished off the remainder of the picnic lunch as a light supper then Lily sent Dudley home and sent Harry to take a bath and get ready for bed.

'_Maybe they forgot about me!'_ Harry thought hopefully while he changed into his new pyjamas. Each time he put them on he revelled in the feel of the soft cotton on his clean skin, always before he just had an old too big t-shirt of Dudley's to wear at night. However, when he came out, the living room was already dark. Curling up on the couch where he slept at night he pulled the soft blanket up to his chin, and tried not to be disappointed that his hasty wish had come true with unexpected consequences _'...they forgot about me...'_

Harry had only hoped they would forget about what Dudley said, he hadn't wanted them to forget about him altogether! He hadn't been living with them all that long, and tonight was the first night they forgot, but he was already missing not being tucked in and being kissed goodnight. Brushing a stray tear off his cheek, he decided that they must be even angrier with him than he had originally thought.

Through the closed door, he could hear the raised voices of his mum and dad arguing in the bedroom. When their voices suddenly quieted, and the door cracked opened, painting a stripe of light across his face, he shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

It wouldn't do for them to know he was still awake, not after they caught him out of bed this morning! No, it wouldn't do at all! His aunt and uncle had always gotten upset when they found him outside of his cupboard instead of in it.

"He's already asleep," James whispered. He was disappointed at missing the opportunity of putting him to bed again. It made him feel so 'daddy-ish'.

"Poor little guy, all tuckered out." Lily tiptoed over and knelt down beside the couch.

Tucking his small hand under the blanket, she placed kiss on his forehead. "You're right James. This isn't working out at all. He can't keep sleeping on the couch. We got him some pyjamas and a change of clothes, but they are barely adequate. He needs so much more. Children cost a lot of money, and the pantry is almost bare. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, and there's Holly to think of too." James ran his fingers absently through his hair in thought. "There just isn't room for four in this flat. When we rented it, we thought it would just be three, and a baby is small and wouldn't take up much room… a nine-year-old is a lot bigger. Maybe… maybe it's time."

"James - No! Are you sure we can't wait a little while longer? I know I said I wanted to, and I do. But I'm not sure if I'm ready to leave… not just yet."

"I don't think we have much choice anymore Lily."

"Okay," Lily sighed with resignation. "If you're sure James - when?"

"The end of the week. I'll talk to my boss on Monday."

"Don't you normally need to give a two week's notice?"

"Yeah... I should. I'll make something up. He's pretty understanding most times."

"How about Harry? Should we tell him we're leaving?"

"No," James decided after some thought while he lightly fingered his son's damp hair. He remembered the discussion just the night before about werewolves. At the time, he hadn't thought the discussion had been enough to cause his son nightmares, but waking up to find him curled up in the rocker in their room disputed that fact. He should have known it would. He should have been more aware. He should have been more in tune to his needs. He should have done a lot of things.

He had forgotten for a moment that Harry had been raised by muggles, and didn't know anything about their world, and he wouldn't forget again. However, if just that little bit of talk about the wizarding world was too traumatic, then letting his imagination run wild for a week was not a good idea. Best to wait and introduce him to it in person where he could see all the wonderful things it had to offer for himself. "No, no need to worry him."

As they slipped back into the bedroom, a pair of bright green eyes filled with tears flew open. They were leaving because of him! Moreover, not just because of him, they were leaving him! It was just as Uncle Vernon always said, he thought with a sob. He cost too much, ate too much, and took up too much room.

They had promised that they were going to buy him some new shoes - some of his very own that Dudley had never worn, and he really wanted them. The ones he had were several sizes too big and full of holes. However, so far they hadn't remembered to take him shoes shopping. Well if it came down to a choice between shoes and a family, he certainly didn't want the shoes! In fact, he didn't need any more new clothes! He had more now than he had ever had before, and he could quit eating breakfast too. He really didn't need to eat much. But what could he do about taking up too much room?

His dad said when they rented the flat they hadn't plan on him, that they didn't have enough room, and his mum said he shouldn't be sleeping on the couch. They were right he thought with a start, he hadn't really thought about it before but with him sleeping on the couch, he was monopolizing most of the flat, the kitchen-living room being combined into one room. When he was using it as a bedroom, his parents didn't have anywhere they could go but the bathroom or their own bedroom. With him here, they were forced to share their room with Holly.

Uncle Vernon always liked having the living room 'just for family'. He hadn't even allowed Harry to go into it unless he was vacuuming or dusting. He should have realized that his dad probably wanted the living room to himself too. Where could he go that he wouldn't be in the way so that they would stay and not leave him? They were mad when they found him in their chair, and he couldn't sleep in the bathtub, the bathroom really wasn't big enough for more than one at a time, it wasn't like the restrooms at school.

His uncle had put him in the cupboard under the stairs to get him out of the way, and his aunt seemed to think that was the proper place for him too. Only this flat didn't have stairs or even a cupboard in it… or… did it?

He remembered seeing the edge of a little door in the bedroom. It was a very small door, right at floor level, behind the crib. He wouldn't have ever noticed it except that he had crawled under the crib to fetch a rattle that Holly had flung on the floor. The door led to a tiny little recess in the rafters of the roof that extended over the larger ground floor flat. Maybe that would do!

Delighted with his plan, he quickly gathered up his few scattered things and put them in a pile. There! The room looked tidier and larger already he thought with satisfaction. Then looking at his meagre stack of belongings, he fingered the soft warm blanket. It really wasn't his, and his mum needed it when she was sitting on the couch with Holly. His mum's feet got really cold. Then he looked at the little sofa pillow. His dad said they got it just for him, but his dad also liked to use it when he napped on Sunday afternoons.

His mind made up, he quickly pulled them out of the pile and placed them carefully back on the couch. The rest easily fit into his book bag from school. Holding his bag, he sat quietly in the dark until he heard the rhythmic breathing of his sleeping parents, then he slipped into the bedroom and through the little door under the crib.

It was a tight fit, very dusty, and even smaller than his cupboard had been. And while his cupboard at least had had a thin mattress to curl up on, this cubby had two definite advantages. First, he would be out of the way, but he would still be close enough to protect them from the Evil Wizard while they slept. Secondly, it was so tiny there wasn't even room to lie down unless he curled up really small. That meant there would be no danger of him falling asleep!

Now, if he just didn't eat too much, there was no reason for them to leave, he thought with a contented yawn. Pulling his book bag in beside him he leaned back with his knees pulled up to his chest. Soon he lost the fight with the pull of gravity on his heavy eyelids and he was sound asleep.

"James! Harry's gone!" Lily's frantic voice woke James from a sound sleep.

"Wha'?" he yawned back.

"I can't find him anywhere."

"What do you mean you can't find him? He's not that small and the flat not that big…"

"I think he ran away."

"Why do you think that?" James asked sleepily from the bed as he managed to get one leg out from under the covers and his foot hit the cold floor.

"His clothes are all gone." Lily called back.

"What about the sofa pillow? And the blanket?"

"No, they're still here."

"Then so is he. He wouldn't have left them behind if he had run away. Everybody knows you have to take your pillow and blanket with you. That's the first rule of running away… or maybe the fifth… it's hard to remember. It's been a while."

"Then where is he?" Lily said desperation edging into her voice.

"Don't know Rosie-posy. Let's look again," James stretched groggily as he got out of bed. "_... yawn.._. now if I were nine years old, where would I hide? AHA! GOTCHA!" James shouted out as he dropped suddenly to the floor and peered under the bed, only to add a sheepish, "um… maybe not."

After checking the bathroom, kitchen-living room, and the bedroom twice, then a third time just to be sure, James was starting to feel as frantic as Lily looked.

"Do you think… Death Eaters…?" Lily's voice trailed off, her face paled at the thought.

"No, definitely not. The alarms would have gone off. I have more protection spells around this flat than Hogwarts has house elves. He wasn't taken out of here unwillingly."

"Then he did leave on his own! Where is he James? Where?"

"I don't know," James enveloped her in his arms to calm her shaking, "but we found him once, we can find him again. I tell you one thing though, when we do find him, I'm putting a tracking spell on him."

"A tr-tracking spell?" she hiccupped.

"It's either that, or I don't let him out of my sight ever again."

"How about both?" Lily sobbed quietly in his arms until the sounds of Holly's crying finally pulled them out of the embrace. Lily put out a hand to stop James as he started towards their bedroom to check up on Holly.

"I best see to her myself, that's her 'I'm hungry' cry."

"No that's her 'I'm wet' cry. I'd know it anywhere. But I'll still let you take care of it." James teased pushing her towards bedroom while trying not to show how concerned he was. As soon as they took care of Holly's needs, they would go searching for Harry and they _would_find him he vowed. He turned to the dresser to get his clothes, only to have Lily stop him once more, this time with a hushed whisper from the bedroom door.

"_James! Come here! Quickly!" _

"What?"

"_Sshush! Quiet… just look…" _she said nodding toward the cracked open door. James tiptoed to peer inside to see Harry gently rocking baby Holly in the old wooden rocker, rubbing little circles soothingly on her back.

"Where did…? But I looked…? How…?" James started to ask but stopped as Lily shook her head and held a finger to his lips to silence him.

"There, there, Holly. You're all right. I'm here. You're not all alone. You have a nice dry nappie now and you're all comfy again." Harry crooned as he cuddled his baby sister until she was all smiles and giggles again. "Don't worry I'll protect you. I'll never leave you."

Lily quietly shut the door and turned to James, anguish in her eyes. "He doesn't trust us, does he? He still thinks we're going to leave him again, and he probably thinks we'll abandon Holly too. We still don't have him back in spirit do we? He doesn't love us. He-he won't even call me m-m-mum!" she started to wail.

"There, there, Lily. It'll be all right. We'll be all right." James took her in his arms and crooned in her ear, unconsciously echoing Harry's words to Holly. "I'll talk to Vernon today and I'll make him quit dragging his feet. We'll get this adoption mattered settled. Maybe that will make Harry feel more secure. Then we'll head for Hogwarts."

"Hog-Hogwarts? Why there?"

"It's the best place to start. Dumbledore should know what's been happening. We'll find Sirius and Moony, then we'll all make a home somewhere for Harry and Holly where they'll grow up safe and strong and happy. We love him, and we'll just keep after him, until he knows it too. We'll get our son back, all of him, body _and_ heart, I promise."

"P-Promise?"

"I promise - unbreakable vow promise."

"Unbreakable? But, James!" Lily started to protest.

"Shush my love. Yes 'unbreakable' because I will never stop trying, and if we don't succeed, I don't think I could live with it anyway so it won't matter."

"Then I promise too - unbreakable vow promise." As James and Lily kissed to seal their pledge, two floors below, another unbreakable vow was offered to the fates.

After R.J. swept up the rubble in his flat, he sat on the bare cement floor of his self-made prison and leaned tiredly back against the rough unfinished cement walls. It was fitting surroundings he thought, why should he be any better off than Sirius?

"After I get through this teaching job, I vow to get Sirius out of Azkaban if it's the last thing I do. I don't know how without finding James and Lily... but I will. However before I do, I still have to get through this teaching job." Pulling his satchel out of the rubble he rubbed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the fledgling starts of the poems that his students had worked on Friday, they would want feedback on the morrow.

One floor up, one of the budding poets, sat poking his fork at his disgusting looking lumps of cold rubbery scrambled eggs.

Dudley could smell the tantalizing odours wafting down from up above. He had tried to sneak off again. However, after he had spent the entire day Saturday with his relatives his mum had put her foot down. She said she wanted her little 'Duddykins' all to herself.

After temper tantrums didn't help, he surrendered to his fate. Babyish nicknames aside, he guessed he could at least get a trip to the cinema and a new computer game out of it. However, he did wonder what his cousin was having for breakfast. It had to be better than this.

One floor up, Harry was avoiding eating the very meal of which Dudley was jealous, saying he had already eaten a banana and some toast before they got up, and he was really quite full. He hated lying to his mum, and his mouth was watering over the smell of the French toast and sausages, but he remembered what she had said about the panty being almost bare. He wasn't surprised after how many times Dudley had decided to show up for meals. Given the opportunity, Dudley could eat enough for two.

Now all he had to do was get through lunch, supper, and one more breakfast, without his tummy rumbling and he would be back at school and fine. He just had to drink a lot of water until then, and when the school week started he could pretend to pack his own lunch, so that shouldn't be a problem. Once he was back at school, he could usually find something to eat that someone had tossed out. That's what he used to do when he lived with his aunt and uncle and got hungry. He'd had lots of practice. He could do it again. However, he hadn't counted the one BIG difference between his mum and his aunt, his aunt only cared when he ate her food, his mum cared when he didn't.

Lying in bed that night, Lily snuggled her head under the crook of James arm and ran her finger down his chest. In response, he pulled her closer. He knew that particular touch. That was her 'you-better-not-be-sleeping-because-I'm-not-sleeping-and-we-need-to-talk' touch.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"You don't have a penny."

"Touché my love. Okay, tell me on credit then. Surely I'm good for it," James smirked.

They both knew that once they returned to the wizarding world they would be more than well off, as James was the only child and heir of one of the wealthiest families in the wizarding world. Their vault at Gringotts, the wizard's bank, was stack high with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts.

"Okay, but just this once more, your tab is getting fairly high. I'm worrying about Harry."

"What about him?"

"I don't think he ate all day."

"He didn't? I could have sworn I saw of short version of me at supper, sitting right next to me on the couch."

"Oh he was there, he just didn't eat. He _pretended_ to, but he didn't. He just pushed the food around with his fork... and he seemed tired all day. I thought maybe he was coming down with something, but I checked and he didn't have a fever. And the couch - that's another thing! He even seemed reluctant to sit on it with us, and it's not as if there is a wide choice of seating. And I still can't find where his things went to."

"Did you ask him?"

"No... I thought about it. But if he doesn't trust us enough to the point that he feels he has to hide his things from us, I don't want to start grilling him and making him feel even more defensive. What are we doing wrong Jimmy?"

"I'm not sure Rosie. We've never raised a nine-year-old before to have something to compare it too. However, in our defence, it's a big jump between toddler and tot. We missed the parental training that leads up to this age. Maybe it's just a natural phase?"

"Maybe…" She just had a nagging suspicion that there was more than they thought going on in that little brain.

"Let's give it a few days hon. Maybe it'll just work itself out if we give it a little time. Like the adoption counsellor said, it's a period of adjustment, we have to get used our tiny baby boy suddenly being three feet taller. And Harry has to get used to parents being around who _actually_ care." He commented thinking derisively of the non-caring attitude by the adults in his life that his son had grown up with until now.

"Your right, of course. That is what the counsellor said," Lily agreed reluctantly.

"Of course I'm right," he acknowledged smugly, unbeknownst that his sentiments were being echoed one floor below.

"Of course I'm right," Vernon said just as smugly to Petunia as he climbed into bed. "That brother-in-law of yours was willing to agree to anything I asked in exchange for my signature."

"So what did you ask for?"

"Our house to be rebuilt, only naturally with all the improvements we would have made if we hadn't had the burden of taking care of his wretched offspring all these years."

"Naturally! What else?" Petunia asked greedily.

"Of course to have my car replaced with a new one, top of the line, and one for you as well my pet," he said to his wife's gratified giggle. "Then all of our personal items restored exactly as they were before all this nasty business. And our names on the deed to a nice summer home in Majorca."

"Oh Vernon! Majorca!" Petunia breathed heavily at the mere thought of her fondest desire being fulfilled. "Do you really think they'll pay for all that?"

"They better, if they want my cooperation. My reputation as a pillar of the community is worth at least one vacation home if not two. Perhaps I should demand a winter ski chateau in the Alps as well," he pondered thoughtfully. "Besides, I'm tired of waiting on the insurance company. 'Suspicious Circumstances' my foot. Any fool can see it was utterly destroyed. What's suspicious about that?"

"But what if it happens again? What if those- those _people_ come back? Didn't you say we needed the boy there for our protection?"

"Been rethinking that, and I decided that it's best not to take the boy back after all. That Mr. Malevolence seemed an intelligent type. It was obvious after he turned our house into cinders that the boy wasn't there and we didn't want him. He'd be a fool to waste his time looking for him there again, and he didn't seem a fool. No, I doubt if there is any danger left my Pet, so we might as well cash in."

"You are so clever!" Petunia flattered as Vernon turned off the light and the last tenants awake in the building went to sleep.

Last, except for one that is. One floor up, the last one awake was determined to stay that way this time. The small dark haired boy, his stomach growling, once again settled into his little hidden cubby to sit vigil over his sleeping family. When dawn finally started leaking its light into the room Harry was exhausted and felt like a pretzel.

Rolling out of his hiding spot, his legs felt like a thousand needles were sticking him as he tried to straighten up. However, all the discomfort was well worth it, he thought with satisfaction, taking the fussy Holly out of her crib and carrying her over to the makeshift changing table. Thanks to him, his family was safe for another day.

Harry changed his baby sister into a dry nappie, then kissed the top of her fuzzy head and put her back in her crib. After quickly dressing, he then wrote a note telling his parents that he had left for school early and slipped quietly out the front door. He needed to get away before his mum started worrying over him again, and he wanted to avoid lying to her as much as possible.

As he ran down the stairs to the ground floor, he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure they hadn't seen him. Then reaching the landing he jumped down the stairs of the front stoop two at a time, not paying attention to where he was going, and ran smack into the tenant from the basement flat as he rounded the corner of the building.

"Whoa there!" R.J. chuckled good-naturedly, steadying them both from falling down. Then as he recognized the student that had occupied a good majority of his thoughts for the last two days he added, "a little early for school aren't you Harry?"

"Oh hi, Mr. Wolfe! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run into you."

"That's okay no harm done," R.J. replied. "You live around here?"

"Not just around… I live here," Harry replied pointing at the building that they had both just come from.

"Really? Not the ground floor flat I hope," he frowned.

"Oh no, Mr. Wolfe, that one is waaayyyy too expensive. It has an extra bedroom and we're on a budget. My cousin Dudley lives in that one. We live upstairs."

"Oh, that's nice," he said a bit relieved. He was glad to know that Harry's new family wasn't the source of his pounding headache. Moreover, in the same odd way that putting a name to a mysterious malady will give the sufferer a modicum of relief, he was glad to be able to put a name to real source. He should have known his classroom headache was the cause of his nightly ones too.

"It is?" Harry looked at him peculiarly.

"Yes. I live in the basement flat. It's good to know who the neighbours are. Where are you off to this early?"

"I… um… nowhere."

"Have you had breakfast yet?" R.J. asked, observing that the little boy was way too thin to be healthy, and he had mentioned that his family was on a budget. Maybe they had similar money problems to his. After all, they did live in the same shabby building. How much money could they have?

"Er… yes?" Harry said meekly, but then shook his head no as his stomach growled loudly to dispute his original answer.

"I thought so, why don't you walk to school with me? I found out if I get there very early, the cooks are making themselves breakfast before they start on the preparations for the hot lunch. They are usually good for a leftover sausage or a scrambled egg or two. How about you join me? I'm willing to share anything I can bum off from them, and it would be nice to have company for a change," he said holding out his hand. "That is… if your parent's know where you are. Do they?"

"Oh yes! I left a note!" Harry said very responsibly as he took the offered hand and started pulling his teacher towards the school grounds. He was hungry!

The pair had a companionable breakfast at the cook's table in the corner of the bustling school kitchen, before heading to the classroom. Not only did they have sausage and eggs, but bacon, fried potatoes, toast, and thick mugs of cold milk. The head cook was determined to fatten up the ill looking new teacher and his scrawny little tag-along. She never minded feeding anyone who appreciated her cookery.

In payment for the hearty food, she and the entire kitchen staff were entertained throughout the meal, by the small boy's lively brags of "_MY_ _Daddy_ this… and _MY_ _Mummy_ that…" It was very obvious to anyone within earshot, that the little boy loved his new parents very much.

Fortified by the ample breakfast, the two prepared the classroom for the day's lessons. Watching Harry pass out the books and materials, he reminded R.J. continually of his best friend James. The boy and his old friend had much the same movements with their hands - quick, steady, and purposeful. If Harry had been a magical boy, instead of a muggle, he could see him becoming a first rate Quidditch player. Perhaps a seeker or even a chaser, the same position James played on his house team. If only… but sadly he wasn't.

Instead, R.J. started wondering about the boy's complex family life, and thought about the peculiar living arrangements - with the boy's former guardians, his aunt and uncle, living in the same building as his new adoptive parents. He supposed that was how they met. However, why would an aunt and uncle give custody of their own flesh and blood nephew to non-relatives? Especially one as special as Harry? R.J. shrugged it off. It really wasn't any of his business, but he did hope that Harry's new parents appreciated his little helper as much as was beginning to.

His woolgathering came to an end as the school bell rang, signalling the start of the day as the children poured into the class. It was a busy day and it wasn't until the last hour of class that he thought about his admittedly 'favourite' student's family dynamics again.

All the children had gotten out their valentines to work on some more, and were busily gluing on the finishing touches that they had brought from home. Large red and pink hearts littered every desk and quite a bit of the floor by the time that they were finished - all the desks except for one.

Harry only had one piece of lined paper on his desk, but he had slaved over it for the entire hour. Writing and then erasing and rewriting until he had used up almost the entire pencil. In the end, the satisfaction on his face attested to the results of his labour.

R.J. was about to go over and ask if he could read it, when a peculiar thing happened. Dudley, who had been idly flipping glue balls at the girls, and making a mess with the glitter, noticed the look too. He went over to his cousin's desk and took the paper. When Harry snatched it back, Dudley whispered something in his ear, Harry went pale, nodded, and handed it over to Dudley. Dudley went back to his own seat with a triumphant look on his face.

Something was not right about the whole episode, and R.J. was just about to intervene when the final bell pealed and the children scrambled out of the room in a rush, leaving trails of glitter and scraps of red and pink paper behind them. Gathering up the valentines, R.J. returned them to the craft cupboard for safekeeping, carefully placing each on the proper child's shelf for them, admiring their work as he went.

He had to laugh when he got to Malcolm's card. "The boy is nothing if not honest," he said chuckling at the poem. R.J. had no doubts that Malcolm's mother would appreciate it as much as he did.

_**I tried to write a poem for you Mummy  
but the rime came out kind of crummy.  
Oh by the way, that was it.  
-Malcolm**_

Dudley's card was rather unoriginal. He had covered it completely with solid red glitter other than the random splotch of bare cardboard where the glitter had fallen off and he hadn't bothered to glue anymore on. Dudley hadn't even taken the trouble to cut it in a heart shape as most of the other children had. It looked as if he had spent all of five minutes of thought and effort on it. Even so, R.J. placed it as carefully as he had the other children's cards.

When he got to Harry's shelf, he picked up the valentine that Harry had worked on during the weeks before and studied it. No wonder he didn't get it out today, he thought. It was already complete except for the inside message, and it was a masterpiece.

Instead of just gluing construction paper to the brown cardboard 'shell' that every child had started with, Harry had completely covered his, inside and out with a scrap of shiny red satin so that none of the cardboard showed. The front he had carefully padded between the soft material and the cardboard with stuffing, so that the card was three-dimensional. Then he had then sewn lace around the outside edge of the back with very even stitches in an embroidery pattern, completely covering the raw edge so it had a very finished look.

On top of the red satin, Harry had placed two overlapping hearts made out of pink gingham material. In the middle of the first heart was embroidered a small four legged reindeer like animal wearing a crown. The second heart had a small white flower daisy stitched with a crown for its centre. Woven through neatly spaced small slits in the satin, was a white velvet ribbon encircling both of the hearts. In the centre where the two hearts met, Harry had sewn on a tiny sprig of silk holly.

Into the fold on the inside of the valentine, Harry had glued a piece of paper, which looked very similar to old parchment. All that was missing was the message. For something patched together from odds and ends of scraps, it was really quite beautiful, and an obvious painstaking labour of love.

R.J. wasn't a bit surprised at the detail the child had put into it. He had seen him working on it diligently at every opportunity, and he had no doubt but what the message was what he had been working so hard on today. Why then, had he given it to Dudley? He frowned. Something wasn't quite right between his little friend and his cousin. He would have to keep both an eye and an ear out.

Being part wolf - R.J. had keen ones of both and now he knew where they both lived. However, he didn't spy either Harry or Dudley on his way back to his one room flat, and other than Dudley's father (as he now knew that was who it was), pounding on the floor above him to 'pipe down' when all he was doing was reading quietly, he didn't hear anything that night.

He rose early both the next two days and walked very slowly to school, hoping that Harry would join him again for breakfast, and perhaps he could carefully draw him out and find out what was going on between him and Dudley. Nevertheless, dawdle as he might, he didn't see Harry either day until class started. Then Harry was almost late at that, dragging in both days at the last minute, and dropping exhaustedly into his seat.

The circles under Harry's eyes grew darker every day, and there were several times that R.J. could have sworn the little boy was asleep with his eyes open. He knew something was wrong, and he wanted to help, but it was now Wednesday - Valentine's Day and his last day teaching. The principal had informed him there had been numerous 'complaints' about his teaching, so they had secured a replacement teacher who would be reporting for duty the next day.

R.J. had no doubts about with whom the complaints originated, but he didn't argue. He knew it was time to go. He was seldom in any job more than a month, and he just felt lucky he had kept this one as long as he had.

As the day drew towards an end, the children excitedly gathered their valentines to take home to their mothers. As they did, Dudley started bragging about how his valentine was the very best one in the class and how his mum was sure to buy him a present in exchange when he gave it to her.

R.J. shook his head in wonder at the brag, as he remembered the poorly glittered card. However, he knew that it was the sentiment and not the quality that made the valentine special, so no matter what it looked liked – Dudley's mother was sure to love it. He still thought it was sad that Dudley hadn't learned the lesson that St. Valentine had laid his life down to pass on to future generations. For to Dudley it was obvious that the day was still about receiving gifts himself, instead of him giving love to others unconditionally.

Glancing over to Harry, he was equally sad to see the worried look on his little breakfast-buddy's face as he was hurriedly putting his things in his book bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, Harry started to rush out of the room only to have his cousin stop him. The bigger boy whispered in his ear while he simultaneously crammed something into Harry's hand. Dudley then fished in Harry's book bag, took something out, and shoved it in his own. Harry then left dejectedly, dragging his book bag behind him.

R.J. sincerely wished he had gotten the opportunity to find out what was going on between those two boys. However, try as he might, he hadn't found another opportunity to talk to Harry alone. It was almost as if Harry had been avoiding him. If this were a Hogwarts class, R.J. would have given him detention, and forced him to stay after class and talk, but this was a muggle primary school and those tactics wouldn't go over very well with the principal. R.J. was tempted to do it anyway. After all, it was his last day teaching so what could the Principal do to him - fire him twice? Only staying true to his nature, he hesitated too long and Harry was gone by the time he had made up his mind.

After cleaning up the room, R.J. took one last look around to make sure everything was in order. A small glint of silver on the floor near Dudley's desk caught his eye, and picking it up, he found it was a door key on a string. Well it would be easy enough to return since he knew where Dudley lived, he thought as he pocketed it.

Flipping off the lights and locking the door, he sighed. Time to pack, he told himself, as he headed back to the flat for the last time.

When he arrived home, he first went to return the key, but at the sounds of a heated argument coming from the ground floor flat he decided to push it under the door instead of knocking. Someone, sooner or later would find it and he really didn't want to get into the middle of a domestic squabble.

Trudging downstairs to the basement flat, he pulled out his trunk and satchel and started to work gathering his belonging. Not that it would take that much time he thought ruefully, just grateful that the pounding from above was not serenading him while he did it. If they knew he was moving out, they would probably be tap dancing instead.

One floor up, Vernon was trying to decide between tap dancing and a throwing a tantrum. James and Lily were sitting in _his _living room on _his _couch drinking _his_ tea and spouting some nonsense about being willing to pay him everything he asked for, _including_ the ski chateau, but saying that they were unable to do so until he signed the papers so they could go back to _that _place. Tommyrot! Once he signed, he'd have no leverage and they'd take their brats and disappear in a puff of smoke, just as they had on Christmas Eve. Moreover, he knew how that turned out for him - Badly!

"So what will it be Potter? Do you want the boy or not?" Vernon sneered as Petunia handed him a plate with a generous slice of the chocolate cake Lily had brought as a peace offering.

"Of course we want him! How you could you even ask that?" Lily gasped in disbelief.

"Well you have a funny way of showing it. It seems quite simple to me," Vernon said between bites. "Pay me what I want, and I sign. Until then he's legally mine."

"But we can't pay you - not yet. We can't get the money until we go back, and we won't go back without him."

"You're in a pickle then aren't you?"

"I swear Vernon, I'll…" James drew his wand and start towards his brother-in-law.

"NO JAMES! Remember what the lawyer said? He said they have to give up custody under their own free will or the papers won't be valid. If they aren't valid here, they won't be valid in our world either. It's part of the Muggle Protection Act."

"That's right, and my free will says no money, no signature."

"Hey Dad! What's going on?" Dudley called out as he came into the room.

"Nothing to concern you Diddydums, why don't you go play with that nice new computer game I got you?"

"But its _borrrrrring_ I've already gone through all the levels," he whined. "I want a new one. Nowwwwwww!"

"Isn't he just the smartest thing?" Petunia petted Dudley and crooned at Lily.

"Yeah… sure Sis," Lily agreed reluctantly while giving her nephew a disapproving look for his whining.

"Oh Mum that reminds me! I made you a valentine in school! Do you want it?" Dudley hung on the arm of the chair his mother was sitting in making it tilt up on two legs.

"Of course, my little Duddykins! I would love a valentine from you!"

Dudley let go of the chair making Petunia's teeth rattle as it slammed back to four legs then ran out of the room to fetch the card. Behind him was a chorus of _'Isn't he the sweetest thing!' _from his mother, and_ 'That's my boy! He's getting to be a real ladies man just like his old man.' _from his father.

"Here you go. Now can I have a new game?" Dudley asked thrusting the card at his mother.

"Oh Duddy! It's lovely!" Petunia said opening the lace edged red satin card. It had overlapping pink gingham hearts with three oddly incongruous plastic roses glued on the front, one in the centre of each heart and another where they met.

"There are three roses… one for you, one for dad, and one for me." Dudley said proudly as his mother started to read…

_**Some mums are thin  
And some mums are tall  
Some mums are big  
And some mums are small  
Some mums have short hair  
And some have long noses  
But mine has smiles of sunshine  
And smells like roses  
Compared to all the rest  
I would have to say  
My mum's the best!  
**_

**- Dudley**

"That is the best poem I ever read! And you wrote it all by yourself - just for me?" Petunia cried pressing the valentine to her heart.

"Yep… everyone in class made a valentine. We were told we could only make one card so it would be extra-extra special. And we were supposed to make it for the one person we loved the bestest in the whole wide world. So I made one especially for you."

"Oh Duddy!" Petunia fairly swooned. "I love you the bestest in the whole wide world too!"

"That's my boy!" Vernon said glowing with pride and taking another bite of cake.

"So what kind of card did Harry make you Lily? I'm sure he did the best he could… of course, it couldn't possibly compare to the lovely one Dudley made me. Dudley _always_ does better in school than Harry." Petunia gloated waving it under Lily's nose to show it off. Catching her sister's sad expression she guessed, "Oh dear me… he didn't even make you a card. Did he?"

"It's quite lovely Dudley, you did a fine job." Lily stood up abruptly and said quietly. "Let's go James, were not getting anywhere here."

"I'll be back, Vernon. This isn't the end of it."

"Anytime Potter, just bring lots of money with you when you come." Vernon waved his fork as James slammed the door behind him, and stalked up the stairs, through the living room, and into the bedroom of their flat without stopping.

"I swear Lily, if I don't start getting a little cooperation out of him, he's had it! Does he think we can just print up our own money? I tell you Lily, I am out of patience! We should have let the Death Eaters have him!"

"At this point, I'm not sure if I care what happens to him either," Lily replied as she followed him into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Sitting on the couch with Holly on his lap, Harry heard his mum add, "I tell you, if I have to see him stuff his face one more time with my food, it'll be one time too many," as she closed the bedroom door behind her sealing off the rest of the conversation.

Although Harry couldn't hear the rest, he knew from the tone of their voices through the closed door that they were both very angry - angry about money, and angry with him.

His dad must have found out he had lost his key! Keys are expensive to replace. He didn't lose it on purpose and he _was_ trying to be cooperative. He had also really tried not to eat, but after sneaking out early that one morning, his mum had prevented him from doing it again and watched him like a hawk until he ate before he left for school.

When they first brought him home to live with them his parents had been happy all the time, but over the weeks, it had gotten more and more tense. Now they were fighting all the time. Maybe if he left they would be happy again, he thought sadly. His dad did say there was only room for three. Holly would be okay. She was small - not in the way at all.

"I know I promised I'd never leave you, but you're just too little to come with me Holly. It's better off this way. Uncle Vernon said that the bad men who burned down his house were after me. With me gone, you won't have to worry about the Evil Wizard and his minions, so you'll be safe." Harry pulled his book bag out from underneath the couch, where he kept it during the day, and made sure all his things were still in it.

"I don't need this." Blinking back the tears, he pulled out the glittery valentine that his cousin had made for his aunt, and crumpling it up in a ball, he tossed it in the dustbin. "Dudley should have kept it along with mine. Guess it's just as well he took mine for Aunt Petunia, I don't think M-mu… Mrs. Krueger would have liked one from me after all."

Tucking the sleeping Holly in tightly with the blanket and cramming the excess down behind the sofa cushion to ensure she wouldn't roll off the couch, he silently slipped out the front door.

After a while, Holly tried to wriggle, and noticed that she was no longer being held by her big brother as she should have being. Upon due contemplation (all of two nano-seconds) she decided to protest this unsatisfactory state of affairs… _LOUDLY_.

"**WHAAAAAAA! WHAAAAAAA! WHAAAAAAA!"**

"Harry honey? Will you check on Hol… ly…" Lily poked her head out and started to ask, then stopped, as all she found was her wailing daughter.

"**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"**

"Harry? HARRY! James! Harry's gone again!"

"Is there a note?" James asked rushing out. "The last time he left us a note." He added frantically searching for it.

"No note, no Harry, just this… Oh, James…" Lily said straightening out the crumpled valentine and holding out for James to read.

**My mum is pretty like Petunias  
I'm glad she's my mum.**

"Okay, so he's not a poet like Dudley, but at least he got my hair, and he did say he was glad you were his mum!" James said, pointing out the bright side.

"Oh James… don't you see? Harry didn't mean this for me… he meant it for my sister. She's the one who raised him all these years. Remember what Dudley said? They were supposed to make their Valentine for the person they loved the most. Well it's obvious now why he hasn't been eating or sleeping. He's homesick. He wants to go back. He… he wants Pe-Pet-Petunia… for his… Muuuuummmmy not mmmeeeeee!" She ended in a heartbroken wail loud enough to rival that of her daughter's.

"But they neglected him Lily! I don't care if he does want to go back. I am NOT letting him go! I made an unbreakable vow! They can't have him! He's ours!" James yelled as he stalked out of the flat.

"James! Where are you going?"

"TO. GET. OUR. SON. BACK!"

As James stormed down the front stairs to the ground floor and started pounding on his brother-in-law's door, R.J. left his basement flat via his private entrance in the back.

Tucking his satchel under his arm, he cast a very subtle hover charm on the trunk, so that he could easily pull it behind him. He then headed down the pavement looking for a quiet deserted place to stop and summon the Night Bus.

He walked all the way to the play park before he found it. Stepping out to the curb, he put out his wand and summoned the triple-decker purple bus. He could hear the rush of wind and see the blur of colour as it appeared, but just before the tires came screeching to a halt in front of him, his keen hearing also picked up some small hiccupping sobs coming from the direction of the swings.

Motioning to the bus driver to wait a moment, he went to investigate. Peering into the dusk, he could just make out a small dark shadow with a head of messy black hair, and the light from the streetlamp glinting off from round eyeglass lenses.

"Harry is that you?"

"Yes'm … _(hiccup)…_ Mr. Wolfe," replied a small sad voice.

"What are you doing out here this time of night?"

"Just… sitting."

"Do you want company?"

"No thank you Sir. You're probably too busy for someone like me." The forlorn little voice answered politely.

"I have all the time you need Harry. Remember? I told the class that if any of you ever needed to talk, that I was more than willing to listen." At a small nod from the shadow he continued, "So… do your parent's know where you are?"

"No Sir. But it doesn't matter. Dudley was telling the truth, they don't want me. They're leaving, so I am too. It's better for everyone this way." Harry sniffled and wiped his runny nose on his sleeve.

"Oh I see... you're leaving home - going to be your own man, answer to no one."

"…yes… that's-that's right…"

"Where are you headed? London? America? Antarctica?"

"Oh no, Sir! I can't go that far. Daddy said I'm not supposed to cross the street by myself, so I can't go past the play park."

"Wise man your dad. So what did you mean when you said that 'they don't want you'? Who is they?"

"Mummy and Daddy... I heard them say that they-they can't afford to keep me anymore. Mummy said children cost too much money because they need clothes, and food, and a place to sleep. And Daddy said he didn't know where to find any more."

"Oh I see. Well, yes, those things are important Harry, but so is love. Moreover, love doesn't cost anything, and it can be found everywhere. When there is love in the home, the clothes, food, and sleeping arrangements - they all seem to work out somehow. True, it isn't always in the most optimal way, but they do work out."

"Not for me Mr. Wolfe. Nobody wants me. I'm just in the way."

"Let's dispense of the 'Mr. Wolfe' and 'Sir' stuff, shall we? As of today, I'm not your teacher anymore so I'd like to be friends. I know I could use one, and it sounds as if you could use one too. Why don't you just call me Remus - okay?"

"'kay… Re-Remus… and you can call me Harry…"

"Will do," Remus said with a chuckle. "So Harry my friend, why do you think you're in the way at home?"

"I don't just think it, I know it. I heard them say so. And that I eat too much."

"Is that why you were sneaking out of the house before breakfast, and why you were bringing an empty lunch sack to school?" Remus asked a very startled Harry.

'_How did he know?'_

"No, I didn't read you mind if that's what you're thinking, I am just very observant and you wouldn't make a good Slytherin at all. You need to have more of a poker face for that house. They'd eat you alive. A Hufflepuff is a possibility though…"

"Slytherin? Hufflepuff?" Harry asked, cocking his head to one side. His daddy had mentioned Slytherin and Hufflepuff too, but he also said was sure that Harry would be a Gryffindor when the time came, while his mummy kept saying Ravenclaw.

"Never mind... the point I was trying to make was, with some people it is hard to tell what they are really feeling, but with others, like you for instance, its written all over your face."

Harry wiped his face with the palms of his hands, leaving dirty streaks across his cheeks.

"Won't help," Remus chuckled. "Now I can tell by the way you light up, when you even think about them, that you love your new parents very much. I can't help but think that if they want to adopt you, that they feel the same. With that much love - the money doesn't matter."

"But I don't love them. And they don't love me," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

"You don't? Really? Tell me, what did your mum think of the Valentine you made her?"

"I... I didn't give it to her."

"Why not? You spent a lot of time on it."

"I gave it to Dudley," Harry said dully.

"You 'gave' it to him?"

"Yeah."

"Even though I'm not your teacher anymore, I think you need a little vocabulary lesson."

"Vocabulary? Now? In the park?"

"Why not? They say there's no time like the present. Let's see now… when somebody pressures you to do something you don't want to do – its called 'duress'. If they force you do it anyway – then it's called 'coercion'. If they do it by threatening you - it's called 'blackmail'. None of those things are called 'giving', which implies a certain level of willingness. So now, did you 'give' him your valentine or did he 'blackmail' it out of you?"

"…blackmail…" came the very quiet answer.

"If I'm not being too nosey, may I ask what he used to threaten you?"

"There were some really bad men who burned down their house… because of me… and… and one of them left his card with Uncle Vernon… and… Dudley… he took it… and he said if I didn't give him my Valentine to give to Aunt Petunia, he would call the bad men and tell them where I was… and I… I couldn't let that happen… not to my daddy and my mummy… and-and Holly… Holly is so little!"

"Holly?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh… on the front of your card - that's who the sprig of holly represented! I get it!" Remus slapped his forehead as he finally realized that the symbols Harry had embroidered on the Valentine held a deep significance for the boy, and weren't just random things he'd pulled out of his imagination.

"Yeah, I didn't have any green thread or I would have sewn it too. But I thought the silk leaves were pretty."

"They were - very pretty. What did the white flower with the crown in the centre mean?"

"Oh, that's Sleeping Beauty's flower. The crown is because she's a Princess." Harry answered matter-of-factly.

"And who is Sleeping Beauty?"

"My… my mummy."

"So the other one… wasn't it a little animal of some sort? Was it for your daddy?"

"Uh-huh… Prince Charming," Harry nodded.

"Of course he would be a prince, it had a crown too."

"That's right."

"And where were you on the card Harry?"

"I was the ribbon," he said softly.

"The one that was circling the Prince and Princess, and baby Holly?"

"Yes…"

"Harry? Why did you put yourself on the outside and not_ in_ the middle of the hearts with your baby sister Holly?"

"Because I was protecting them," he answered so quietly Remus could barely hear him.

"And why were you protecting them?"

"Because I… I love them…"

"Ah… there it is. I thought so. Now why don't we take you back home?"

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Lost my key."

"Your key? Well if that's all it is, I believe I can remedy that situation."

"You can?"

"Yes, I may have an idea of where to find it. Come on," he said holding out his hand.

"But… but my valentine! I don't have one for Mummy anymore! Dudley ruined the one I made. He signed the poem and he cut the pictures I made off the hearts, and glued plastic flowers over the holes! I looked, and looked, but I couldn't find any more stuff to make a new one! Mummy will think I don't like her!"

"But don't you see? You have something far greater to offer than a patchwork valentine."

"I do? But I don't have anything to worth anything to offer at all…" he said searching his pockets and finding only a half stick of gum, a silky smooth rock, and a really neat looking dead bug.

"If you think that – then it's time for another vocabulary lesson. Harry, there are two things you possess, that don't fit in your pockets, and they're priceless beyond measure –two special things no one can ever take away because they can only be given."

"Really? Not even Dudley?"

"No, not even Dudley. The first is friendship - when you offer your friendship, it means you appreciate that person for who they are, without expecting them to change."

"But that's easy. It's not really anything special."

"You'd be surprised how very few know how to do it though. That's what makes it special. It is very hard to give of yourself and not expect anything in return. Such as when I told you that I was happy to give you my time, and that I just want to be your friend. I meant it - there were no strings attached."

"Oh, I see." Harry said with understanding. "So what's the other thing?"

"The second is love – simply love. Such as the love you have for your family, it's the greatest gift you can give to anyone. It just doesn't get any more special than that."

"Will my mummy think so too? Is it enough?"

"I am sure of it. The wonderful thing about love and friendship is that you can be generous with them and give away as much as you want, because they are limitless. You'll never run out. If you just remember that, and apply it to your life Harry, you should be fine."

"Hey! Are you taking the bus or not? Can't wait around all night, got other customers you know!" an impatient voice called out from the wildly leaning vehicle at the curb.

"Not tonight. Sorry to bother you," Remus called back.

As the purple bus screeched away from the curb in a blur of colour Remus picked up his satchel in one hand and took Harry's in the other and started back towards his flat, his trunk following behind like a puppy on a leash. As they neared the building, they could see it was lit up from top to bottom, including his deserted flat.

"I think they're looking for you."

"How can you tell Remus?"

"Because that's the dulcet sound of an anxious loving father, who is searching for a most beloved misplaced son, if I ever heard it."

"**I. WANT. MY. SON!** Tell me right now where he is Dursley or I'll make you wish you were dead!"

"I tell you again. **I. DON'T. HAVE. HIM!**"

"**YES. YOU. DO!"**

"**NO. I. DON'T."**

"Then why do you have his key?"

"How the bloody hell should I know? How do you even know it's his?"

"Because I put a tracking charm on it, and I tracked him here. That's how I know!"

"A 'tracking' charm?" Remus asked puzzled, looking down with curiosity at the little boy who was anxiously clutching his hand.

"Yeah - Daddy did that," he nodded affirmatively.

"Do you know what a tracking charm is for Harry?"

"It's so no matter where I hide from him, Daddy can always find me. That's why I wasn't _**ever**_ supposed to lose my key. He likes to win at hide-and-seek."

"Where do you hide from him?" Remus asked amused at the reason and trying hard to keep a straight face.

"In the little cubbyhole, in the wall behind the crib."

"Do you hide there a lot?"

"Just at night, after Daddy and Mummy fall asleep."

"Why do you hide then? Shouldn't you be sleeping too?"

"Oh I can't sleep! I have to stay awake!"

"Why is that?"

"So I can stop the bad men from hurting my family," he said simply.

Remus kneeled down to Harry's level and looked him in the eyes.

"Harry… _who_ are the bad men?"

Harry thought about what his dad had told him about keeping magical things secret, but his friend Remus knew all about the houses of Hogwarts - just like his dad and mum did. Since he _already_ knew, maybe it was okay…

"Promise not to tell anyone I told you?" he asked just in case he was wrong about it.

"Cross my heart."

Harry leaned over close and whispered _'Daddy said they're dead eaters'_ in his ear.

A ripple of fear at the words ran down his spine. "Do you mean 'Death Eaters'? Are you sure that's what he said?"

Harry nodded his head, his eyes large and serious behind his glasses, as the shouting match continued to resonate from the building.

"Daddy's reaaallllllly mad..." Harry said reluctant to leave the safety of his new friend.

"I agree, he does sound a tad put out." Remus was equally reluctant, especially now that he suspected he wouldn't be facing just an irate father, but an irate wizarding father, who may hex first and ask questions later.

"Soooooo Harry... do you have time for me to ask you another question?" Remus asked playing a wild hunch and praying he already knew the right answer.

"Sure Remus. Go ahead. I'm not in any hurry."

"On your valentine… the symbols for your parents were an animal and a flower, and you said your father was Prince Charming and your mother was Sleeping Beauty…"

"Yeah?"

"Do they go by any other names?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"Daddy and Mummy," Harry answered promptly.

"Ah… I meant, what is that they call each other?"

"Well... mostly 'my love' but sometimes Daddy calls Mummy 'Rosie-posy'."

"No, I meant their real names."

Harry hesitated and answered slowly and cautiously. It wasn't that he didn't trust his new friend... but well... he didn't really trust anyone. "Er... you mean their first names?"

"Could be... what are those?"

"Jimmy and Rose?"

At Harry's hesitation, and at the question in his voice as he answered, Remus took a deep breath and took a stab at one more question. "Harry, do they call each other anything else? Maybe something they only say when no one is around?"

"Er..."

"Maybe something… secret?" he prompted.

"Do you mean their magic names?"

"I probably do."

"I'm not sure if I should tell you..."

"How about if I guess them? Will you tell me if I'm right?"

Harry hesitated to agree this time - his new friend was being very persistent and he was still unsure but what he was giving out too much information.

"Are you duresseling me?"

"Absolutely not Harry. You don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to."

Remus did have very kind eyes, and he was squeezing his hand very reassuringly. It felt nice.

"If I don't tell you, will you still be my friend?" Harry asked shyly.

"Of course I will. I told you - no strings attached."

"...okay then. I'll tell... _if _you get it right. And you only get one guess," he qualified.

"That's fair," Remus smiled. "Are their magic names James and Lily Potter?"

Harry looked surprised and nodded.

"Is yours Harry Potter?"

Harry's nod this time included a grin that was identical to one James Potter. Who at this very moment was doing anything but grinning.

"**DON'T MAKE ME COUNT TO TEN DURSLEY!"**

"**YOU CAN COUNT TO A HUNDRED FOR ALL I CARE YOU FREAK!"**

"**FINE! ONE!..."**

Remus tightened his grip on Harry's hand as he contemplated the extremely high level of anger radiating off his old friend from inside the building. The magical energy was coming off from him in waves so strong that he could feel it washing over him standing outside on the pavement. He didn't envy Dursley one bit. He knew how James could be when he was mad.

"**TWO!..."**

"Soooooo… Harry?"

"Yeah, Remus?"

"**THREE!..."**

"Have you ever disapparated?"

"What's that?"

"**FOUR!..."**

"That when you disappear from one place and then reappear in another, all in the blink of an eye. You get kind of a squishy feeling when it happens."

Harry thought hard. "Once... I think... maybe. But I'm not really sure because it could have been just the wind."

"**FIVE!..."**

"The wind? How's that?"

"Yeah… I think that might have been how I really ended up on the school roof," he admitted sheepishly. "I was just all of a sudden there and I don't know how."

"**SIX!..."**

"You apparated by yourself?" Remus asked admiringly.

Harry nodded, "well... Dudley was chasing me, so I guess you could say he helped."

"**SEVEN!..."**

"You forget - I've met your cousin. He is not the helping kind," Remus said dryly.

"Unless it's helping himself," Harry giggled in agreement.

"**EIGHT!..."**

"Well then, I'd give you full credit, which makes you an old hand at it. Why don't we just pop up to your flat then, and just avoid all this nasty business down here. Sound like a good idea?"

"Yeah! I think Daddy's just about counting!" Harry grinned.

"**NINE!..."**

"Okay, picture your living room and hold on to me tight."

Wrapping Harry tightly in the folds of his robes, Remus turned on the spot apparated them right in front of the comfy couch where Lily lay, clutching a crumpled glittery valentine and sobbing her heart out into the sofa pillow.

"Hallo Lily, mind if I drop in?" Remus asked quietly. Lily's head flew up, her eyes were red from crying, and glitter from the card decorated her cheeks like sparkly freckles.

"Remus!" she gasped. "We thought you were dead!"

"The feelings mutual," he said wryly.

"How… how did you find us?"

"A little friend of mine told me where you were."

"A little friend?" Lily asked confused, sitting up and rubbing the tears and glitter from her eyes and cheeks.

"Yes, this little one…" Remus said pulling back the folds of his robe to reveal a shy anxious Harry peeking out.

"My baby!" Lily cried as she swept him up in her arms, book bag and all. She hugged him so hard he could barely breathe. "JAMES! JAMES! COME QUICK!"

At her frantic call, Remus could hear rapid pounding footsteps coming up the stairs. Within seconds, James burst through the door, hyped up on adrenalin, wand drawn, and ready to take on whatever was threatening his family. Seeing a dark cloaked shape looming over his wife, he sent out a stunning hex before Lily could stop him.

Taken by surprise, Remus went down like a rock.

"Ow! I was hoping to avoid that."

"Remus? My gods! Is that you?"

"Maybe… but considering your welcome - maybe not. If I say 'yes' are you going to hex me again?"

"Maybe…" James said through gritted teeth, raising his wand again. "How do I know it's really you?"

"Good question. I suppose you could ask me something that only I would know the answer to. Would that work for you?"

"Okay… let's see… what did Peeves call you?"

"Merlin!"

"WRONG!" James yelled out preparing to send out another hex.

"No, no, no! That wasn't my answer! Just my reaction! It was something I was trying to forget. The answer is 'Loony Loopy Lupin'. Satisfied?"

"Gods! Yes!" James cried out and pulled his friend to his feet, and enveloped him in a bear hug. "Man you look terrible and beautiful! You're a definitely a sight for sore eyes!"

"Thanks… I think."

"James?" Lily prodded him.

"Yeah Lils?" James asked distractedly, still busy hugging Remus for all he was worth.

"James! May I have your attention please?"

"What?" James slung his arm over Remus' shoulders and grinned at her.

"Remus brought someone important home with him…"

"You did? Sirius! Is Sirius with you? Where? Where is he?" James asked, first looking around hopefully for his other friend, and then disappointment painting his face when he didn't find him standing there.

A small sob caught him off guard as Harry, with a stricken look, turned on his heels and ran into the bedroom. Although James was only a split second behind him, by the time he got there he couldn't find Harry anywhere. He'd disappeared again.

"What have I done now? You'd think he had my old invisibility cloak the way he disappears so fast." James said pulling at his hair as he came back to the living room and flopped down on the couch next to Lily.

"You were just your usual unobservant self," Lily chided him. "Your prodigal son comes home and instead of seeing him, you just looked right over his head for someone else."

"I know… I know… you don't have to remind me."

"Then you shouldn't have asked."

"What do we do now? Where do we look? Remus… where did you find him?"

"At the play park."

"The play park?"

"You told him that was as far as he could go by himself," Remus said knowledgably.

James didn't waste a second and made a move for the door.

"…but that's not where he is now. He hasn't left the flat," Remus added quickly.

"How do you know?"

"I pay attention."

"You're just asking for another hex, aren't you?" James asked brandishing his wand. Long-lost friend or not, he was not in the mood for any more word games.

"If you do, I won't tell you where he is," Remus bargained - his hands up in surrender.

"Just out with it then!"

"Calm down! Before I tell you _where_ he is, don't you want to know _why_ he's there?"

"For someone who's been gone an awfully long time, you sure seem to know a lot about my son," James snarked quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Lately, I haven't been as far away as you might imagine."

"No?"

"No - I've been his teacher for the past month."

"His teacher? Then you were my replacement!" Lily laughed delightedly.

"R.J. Wolfe at your service Ma'am," Remus said bowing low.

"Now the discussion about werewolves makes more sense," she remarked.

"Still Moony - muggle nine-year-olds? Was that wise?" James commented as he started to relax again, fairly sure that his friend wouldn't be dinking around so much if he wasn't positive that Harry was safe and nearby.

"Not my idea James. But put that aside, I've gotten to know Harry pretty well, and he's a good kid."

"Yeah he is," James agreed with pride.

"But he's also confused. He has apparently been hearing you two talk and only understood part of it - and then from the viewpoint of a neglected child."

"We aren't neglecting our son!" James flatly denied.

"I'm not saying you did, but from what I understand you came back into his life not that long ago yourself. What about what before? From the argument I heard you having earlier downstairs you believe it yourself."

"I forgot about that annoying habit of yours," James growled in frustration.

"What habit is that?" Remus asked innocently.

"Always being right. Take that Dursley!" James glowered and stomped on the floor.

"Quiet up there! Or I'll have the landlord evict you!" Vernon shouted back.

"James! Please - let's get back to Harry. Vernon will keep, and Harry needs us right now." Lily pointed out reasonably, making James ashamed and frustrated all over again.

"You're right too... I give up. So what is he confused about?" James asked flopping down next to Lily on the comfy couch.

"Harry seems to think that you're angry with him."

"Angry? About what?"

"For taking up too much room and eating too much. He thinks that you can't afford to keep him, and that's why you're going to leave him again."

"But that's not true!" Lily protested.

"I know, but let me finish. Harry is trying to deal with the rest, in his own way. However, and this is the most important part, what he's worried about the most is not being there to protect you from Death Eaters."

At the shocked look on their faces he continued, "Your son has been doing guard duty all night as your sleep, to protect you from Death Eaters. That's where he is right now."

"But where? He's not in the bedroom… we've looked…"

"In the cubbyhole, in the wall behind the crib."

"There's a cubbyhole behind the crib?"

"Apparently, and he found it - a place where he would be out of your way, but still be able to see all three of you to protect you. I dare say he's probably listening to us right now. I think if you both calm down and stop yelling he'll come out on his own."

"I didn't realize…" James and Lily both started simultaneously.

"He's never been in the way," they both said at the same time again.

"We didn't realize he was worried about any of those things," James replied for both of them. "I put up wards every night. No one could have gotten in here without setting them off."

"And we we're planning to leave, but not until we could get Dursley to sign the adoption papers so he couldn't ever make a claim on Harry again," Lily explained. "We wanted to make sure no one could ever take him away from us. We would NEVER have left without him!"

"Did you tell him?"

"We didn't want to worry him… he's only nine… I know, sounds kind of lame now." James said chagrined.

"You'd be surprised how much a nine-year-old worries, especially, one who has had only himself to rely on for years."

"I taught Harry's class myself in December, you would have thought I would have realized," Lily said blaming herself. "Remus, do you think he'll ever forgive us now? Will we ever get our son back? Really back? It's been seven weeks and after all this… he doesn't… he won't… even call us Mummy and Daddy," she whispered.

"Really?" Remus said raising an eyebrow. "That's funny. When I'm with him, you're about all he ever talks about. In fact, earlier tonight when I asked him what your names were he said they were…"

"...er... _(hiccup)_..."

At small sound from behind, Remus wisely shut up and let their attention focus on Harry.

"I… I'm sorry. It's St. Valentine's Day and I… I made a valentine in school…" Harry started to try and explain but stopped when he saw his mum's face cloud over and her eyes get wet with tears.

"I know sweetie. I found it. And it's okay… it is a lovely valentine and I am sure your aunt will appreciate it," Lily said sadly holding the glittery card out to him.

"Oh I didn't make that one!" Harry said taking a step back as if it would burn him if it got too close. "I gave the valentine I made in school to Dudley, so he could give to Aunt Petunia." Harry apologized in a small hiccuppy voice, nervously hopping from foot to foot, holding his hands uncertainly behind him.

"Ahem_… (cough)…_" Remus prodded him.

"…oh right. Sorry... I mean Dudley _blackmailed_ me and_ took_ it."

"The beautiful red satin one with the roses on it? You… you made that one, and you wrote that lovely poem? All for… for your Aunt Petunia?"

"Oh no! I mean yes! I mean, yes I did make that one, but no I didn't make it for Aunt Petunia. I- I made it for… I made it for..."

"…for me?" Lily finished apprehensively - her tears drying up at Harry's shy nod.

"Not all of it though, it looked different before Dudley glued the plastic roses on it. Those were his idea," Harry added in a rush. "I had stitched little pictures on the hearts, but Dudley… he said they were no good and cut them off."

"So Dudley made this one - not you?" Lily asked looking at the gaudy glittery glob still clutched in her hands. She smiled sadly in understanding. "It's rather a pity…"

"What's that Lily?" James asked squeezing her around the shoulders.

"Dudley… it's a pity that he didn't realize that his mother would have loved this one even more than the one he stole, simply because he was the one who actually made it. Just as I would have loved it too… if Harry had made it for me."

"But… I… I did make you a new one! One from me… I know it's not as perfect as the first one I made… I didn't have scissors, but I tore it in a heart shape." Harry offered hopefully, thrusting the little piece of paper he been nervously holding behind his back at his mummy.

"Honey, you didn't have to make me another valentine," she said taking the proffered token and starting to unfold the little scrap.

"I'm sorry…" Harry said, sure it was going to disappoint her. "It isn't very good… and it isn't… isn't just for you. I didn't have any red paper, or lace, or anything really pretty, but Mr. Wolfe… er… Remus… he said it just needed to be something we wrote ourselves, something that we really meant, to make it a real valentine."

"I'm sure it's fine…" the rest of the words stuck in her throat as she read the valentine.

"Is it… o-okay?" he asked nervously at her reaction. "I didn't have time to write it in cursive, so it isn't as neat as what it should be."

Unable to speak Lily just nodded, and passed the valentine to James and gazed with love at her little boy with his tear streaked face and messy hair.

Harry was fairly dancing on his tiptoes with anxiety, as if ready to take flight at any moment. Lily she dropped to her knees and enveloped him a hug before he could think of escaping again.

Reading the valentine himself James choked out, "It's _more_ than okay Son! It is the best valentine we ever got… it's absolutely perfect!" Dropping to his own knees, he wrapped his arms around them both, making Harry into a squashed Harry sandwich.

Feeling a small pang of envy at being left out of the heart warming scene, Remus bent down and picked up the valentine James dropped, as it fluttered to the ground.

_Mummy and Daddy  
there aren't enough words  
in the whole dictionary to say  
how much I love you  
-Harry  
_

"Simple, to the point, and an obvious crowd please," Remus critiqued. "I'd definitely give it an 'O'."

James looked up and mouthed a silent 'thank you' to the unassuming Remus for bringing their little boy home to them. He shuddered to think about what could have happened, and how vulnerable Harry had been, being alone in the park at night.

He was as much at a loss for words to express his gratitude, as Harry was to express his love. Not only did Remus bring him home safe and sound, Remus was also the catalyst that brought them together. There's always room for one more in the family, and Harry definitely needed a more loving uncle than Vernon.

Who better, than one slightly shabby werewolf with patched robes and shaggy hair?

Signalling to Remus to join the family, they all hugged until they collapsed into a laughing giggling pile on the floor, while Holly cooed contentedly from the comfy couch where she was happily levitating her new toy - the gaudy glittery valentine.

Everything was perfect.

Their little family was growing with love.

And Remus had found what he had lost.

He had found his home.

_~fin~_


	4. A Patchwork Rainbow

**A ****Patchwork Rainbow**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything else that may seem familiar. Sometimes I even doubt ownership of my own thoughts.

Author: DracaDelirus

Dedication: For my sister, for all the ideas on how to find luck, and for Doc for allowing me the time to write about it, and also for Swanpride who is always so encouraging, and to all who wanted a more (haha) 'serious' chapter :)

_My Saint Patrick's Day Wish_

_May your garden weeds be small and few  
As blessings be the thing that grew  
May your roof shelter you from the rain  
Safe and dry 'til the storm does wane_

_May your day dawn bright with sunny skies  
And eve be lit by fireflies  
May fortune follow where 'ere you go  
With coins as bright as the fair rainbow_

_May you__ meet with aid at every turn  
No enemy be your concern  
May luck be one of your truest friends  
And stick with you throughout journeys end_

_May miracles in your palm__ you hold  
Tiny hands more precious than gold  
May many generations to come  
Be proud of whom they descended from_

_May your life's travel__'s obstacles lack  
Sun on your face and wind at your back  
May you live long and may you love true  
And be content in all you do_

_- Happy Saint Patrick's Day! -  
DracaDelirus_

**Patchwork**** Rainbow Patchwork RainbowobniaR krowhctaP wobniaR krowhctaP**

"Ugh! Gerroff me!" Harry's muffled shouts could be heard coming from underneath the hulking lump that was his cousin Dudley. "One _(cough) … _two _(cough) …_" He counted to ten as he spat out the handful of grass Dudley had tried to force down his throat.

Lately Harry had been counting to ten _a lot, _and as he did it once more, he thought about when people said that no matter how much things changed - that they still remained the same. He now knew that all the odd things that he did, that his relatives said happened because he was a freak, had really happened because he was a wizard. Of course, in his aunt and uncle's opinion, being a wizard was the same as being a freak. Therefore, it didn't raise his value in their eyes one smidge. It was just too bad his parents didn't think that it would be a good idea for him to use magic against Dudley. If he couldn't - what good was being a wizard?

Dudley was again in the advantageous upper-hand spot, sitting atop his younger and smaller cousin on the school playground, again enjoying the lunch Harry should have been eating, and revelling in the fact that things were finally going his way. All was well in the Kingdom of Dudley! Long live the king!

His father had managed to get that freaky teacher fired, the one who was so horribly nice to his freaky little cousin, and who tried to make him look foolish with all that yucky valentine business. They now had a new substitute teacher, who much to Dudley's supreme satisfaction, thought his cousin was just as freaky as he did. YAY! Finally! One he didn't have to train!

The only thing that irked Dudley about the whole situation was that the stupid old substitute teachers didn't really go away when they were supposed to. First Mrs. Krueger and her husband stuck around - _and even took his freaky cousin to live with them! _Then Mr. Wolfe added himself to their freaky 'family' as an 'uncle'! An 'uncle' his left foot! Dudley could almost buy the long-lost-aunt-and-uncle-back-from-the-dead business, but what was Mr. Wolfe trying to pull?

Dudley knew darn well that his mum and dad had only had one sister apiece, no brothers, and Mr. Wolfe and Mr. Krueger didn't look anything alike … What's that on about? They didn't even have the same last name! Stupid old teachers! Instead of packing up and leaving, never to darken the doorstep of Dudley Dursley again, they just moved in all around him, and made themselves at home. It was really getting rather annoying.

When the school bell pealed out the signal to return to class, Dudley laboriously hefted himself to his feet, with a knee to Harry's back as he did so - knocking the air out of his cousin's lungs.

"Tell Auntie, thanks for lunch!" Dudley laughed as he and his gang headed back to class.

'_One of these days …'_ Harry thought murderously, as he lay on the grass catching his breath. Yes, one of these days, it would be different - but sadly, not today ... he sighed, idly feeling around for his glasses. Since he heard the 'snap' as Dudley stepped on them, he already knew he would have to tape them back together. He wasn't looking forward to going around the rest of the day looking like the dork Dudley said he was, until he could go home and have his mummy fix them again.

The only redeeming aspect to the whole embarrassing situation was that at least the weather had warmed, and the day was clear. This thankfully meant that he was neither in an icy mud puddle, nor on wet tarmac. If Dudley insisted on sitting on him, the new soft lawn was a welcome change of pace, and chewing thoughtfully on the last few blades of grass in his mouth, not all that bad tasting.

Several meters away, a pair of calculating grey eyes watched the playground scene from behind a large well-placed pyracantha bush. Such a small boy for such a big fuss. It had taken him years of planning, months of travel, weeks of false leads, and countless days following dead ends to locate his target, but he finally had him within his sight. For the past several hours he had done nothing but watch the boy's every move, he hadn't eaten, he hadn't slept, he just watched, and waited for his chance.

Surveying the surrounding area, he confirmed that there was no one else around. This was the first time he had found the boy entirely alone, completely unprotected, with no witnesses. He might not get another such perfect opportunity. Stealthily he moved closer. He didn't want to startle his prey and give him time to escape.

Now was the time … the boy was totally vulnerable … now was the place … the boy was totally oblivious … and now … the boy was going to be totally his…

As Harry lay on his back, drinking in the sweet smelling spring air, and watching the reverse image light patterns that the sun made on the underside of his eyelids, he started to get a vague uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. Listening carefully, all he could hear was nature revelling in the unusually warm spring day. There was the droning of an early bumblebee looking for an open clover blossom. Then in the tall weeds at the edge of the playground, two grass snakes were debating in the hissing language of snakes whether they had ended their hibernation too soon as the air still had a slight winter bite to it. Harry chuckled, they sounded like an old married couple. However, nothing seemed amiss in their amiable bickering.

Then Harry tensed in fear. Something cast a large shadow across his face as it passed between him and the warm sun. Dudley had returned! Harry could have kicked himself for not getting up from his vulnerable position sooner. What was he thinking? Wouldn't he ever learn? Expecting the pummelling to start at any moment, he instinctively began to curl up into a ball to protect his body, when something extremely heavy landed on his chest, preventing the self-defence movement and knocking the wind out of him again.

"Ooof!" What was this penchant people had with not letting him breathe?

Alarmed, his eyes flew open wide as sopping wet sandpaper drenched his face. With his glasses broken, all he could see was something huge, black, with foul rotting breath on top of him obscuring the sun. It wasn't Dudley - his breath was bad, but not this bad! Besides Dudley had been wearing a blue jumper today and this attacker was wearing all black. All black? Dead eater wore all black! If they went around eating people, they probably had bad breath too! He had to get away! His family was in danger! Harry fought down the panic rising in his throat as he thrashed out at his attacker. Grabbing a hold of two handfuls of long matted fur, he tried his best to push his assailant off from him.

Wait a minute … _fur_?

Heart racing, he tried to hold back the attacker with one hand while he groped around for his glasses with the other. Finally, his fingertips touched an earpiece and as he settled the half he found on his nose, he closed the other eye and blinked as his assailant came into one-dimensional focus. Sitting on his chest was a very skinny, very black, and VERY mangy dog about the size of a small bear.

A DOG!

Harry grinned at the mutt in relief, and the mutt grinned back. That is … it was a grin if you counted bared yellowed fangs as a grin. However, considering the overly large dog's overly long tail started wagging so hard that the tail-half of the dog fell off him in surprise, Harry decided that YES! The dog was _definitely_ ginning at him. The dog liked him and he liked the dog - VERY MUCH! And if you didn't look too closely, he wasn't all _that_ mangy, not really … at least nothing that a nice bath and an energetic combing wouldn't help considerably.

Harry had _always_ wanted a dog. As far back as he could remember he was always drawing pictures of a big black dog just like this one. The two lay on the grass grinning insanely at each other. The boy on his back with his arms wrapped around the dog, and the dog on the boy's chest with his legs splayed out over the boy, in what could only be construed as a responding hug - until their mutual admiration society meeting was interrupted by a VERY stern voice.

"_**MISTER…'KRUEGER'**__!"_

"OH NO!" Harry sat up straight as looked in the direction of the angry voice. The dog rolled off his chest in surprise at the sudden movement. "Am I in trouble now!"

"_Woof!" ' ... NO! ... Where are you going? ...' "Woof!" '... Don't you know you're mine now?' "Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!"_

The black dog looked in the same direction as his boy, and immediately rose to his haunches in a protective attack mode. Ears back and tail pointing out behind him, a low growl emitting from his throat. The dog placed himself menacingly between the dark shape looming in the doorway to the school and his boy - the enemy! The dog bared his teeth again, only this time there was definitely NOT a grin on his furry face.

"It's okay, that's just my teacher. It's my fault he's so angry," Harry reassured the big black dog as he petted his back, noticing as he did so that his new friend wasn't wearing a collar and tag. Score! "I'm late for class – got to go!" Harry grabbed the other half of his glasses, jumped up, and ran to the building, stopping out of breath in front of the disapproving Mr. Nathraichean.

"I'm sorry _… (pant)… _I'm late _… (pant)… _Sir _… (pant)… _but the dog _… (pant)…_"

"And just _what_ dog is that Mister…_'Krueger'_?" his teacher inquired in a low silky voice, enunciating the last name and spitting out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Is it the same one that you are attempting so pitifully to imitate?"

"What …?" Harry looked behind him to point out the dog. He couldn't see him anywhere, and all he could hear was his own panting.

"'Imitate': a verb, from the Latin _'imitatus', _meaning to follow as an example, to copy, mimic, or impersonate. Even someone such as you, an underachiever in the scholastic arena, should have at least a rudimentary knowledge of such an unsophisticated word. Particularly as you employ it's meaning frequently."

"I know what 'imitates' means. If that's what you said," Harry said defensively.

"Then why are you wasting my time?"

"Sorry Sir."

"Well?"

"Well what Sir?" Harry asked innocently. He was not sure why his teacher was still upset. After all, he _had_ apologized … _twice _... what more did he want?

"Back. To. Class."

"Oh right!" It was weird how his teacher could yell without raising his voice even one decibel from his low even monotone. However, taking the cue, Harry turned and ran into the building without another word of protest, but gave the playground one last quick glance over his shoulder as he went, feeling a little pang of disappointment when he saw no sign of the big friendly dog.

Deftly jumping over several of Dudley's friend's outstretched legs, all of whom frequently tried to trip him as a favour to his cousin, he hurried to his place in the next to the last seat in the third row from the windows. He slid into place just as Mr. Nathraichean, who had followed at a much more sedate pace, entered the classroom. His teacher never failed to make an impressive entrance, and without having to say a word, he immediately commanded their attention with all eyes to the front and all mouths tightly closed.

Harry did his best to pay attention, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see the edge of the playground through the window. His heart took a leap as he thought for a second that he saw a dark shape on top of the Jungle Gym. Taking a second longer look … he saw nothing there. If it weren't for the drying dog slobber on his collar, he would have doubted that he saw a dog at all so he attributed it to head-injury-caused-hallucinations courtesy of Dudley and his gang. Only he was _so_ sure … and then for a second he thought he saw … but that's silly! How could a dog climb a Jungle Gym?

Harry sat lost in thought for the rest of the afternoon. He idly taped a bent paperclip to the bridge of his glasses to mend them, while the teacher droned on, and on, and on...

He wondered where the big black dog was. He hadn't every seen him around before. He wondered what his mummy was making for supper. The teacher droned on, and on, and on...

He wondered if the big black dog had a name. He liked that he got to eat supper every night. He hoped it would be fried chicken. The teacher droned on, and on, and on...

He wondered if the big black dog would still be nearby when he got out of school. In the distance, he could see the sky starting to grey with storm clouds. He wondered if it would be sunny or rainy for the weekend. The teacher droned on, and on, and on...

He wondered if the big black dog liked to play fetch. Last Saturday his daddy had taken him to the park and they threw a ball back and forth, then he pushed him so high in the swings he felt like he was flying, and then they really did go flying! The teacher droned on, and on, and on...

He wondered if the big black dog would like to come home with him. He bet he could throw a ball really far if he had a dog to chase it. The teacher droned on, and on, and on...

Harry jumped and shook his head out of the daze he was in, when the girl who sat behind him poked him in the back with a sharp pencil. He realized uncomfortably that the entire class was quiet and turned in their seats staring at him - Dudley's smirk being particularly smirky and a mirror image of the expression on the teacher's face.

"Wha'?"

"So eloquent Mister…_'Krueger'. _Would you care to elaborate?_"_

'_OH NO! Mr. Nathraichean just asked me something and I wasn't paying attention!' _Not paying attention was against Mr. Nathraichean's classroom rule number two … or was it number three? There were so many rules it was hard to keep them straight. Harry gulped and sat up straight.

"I'm sorry Mr. Nathraichean. I wasn't paying attention. Would you please repeat the question?"

"The question currently under discussion Mister…_'Kruger'..." _Mr. Nathraichean started moving slowly towards where Harry was sitting, getting closer with every word, "… is why pray tell, would any _sane_ person want to celebrate someone who was reputed to have, falsely or otherwise, driven away … _ssssnakes_?" His eyes narrowed to glinty little slits as he hissed the last word just millimetres from Harry's face.

"I-I d-d-don't know Mr. Nathraichean." Harry stuttered and leaned back in his seat, as far away from the angry face as he possibly could go without falling. He didn't know why the teacher hated him as much as he did, but he was getting the definite impression, that if it were up to the teacher, he would be enrolled in St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys before the month was up. While that would delight his aunt and uncle no end, he thought it might possibly disappoint his parents.

"You _don't_ know?" Mr. Nathraichean spit out feigning surprise.

"No Sir, I like snakes." Harry replied softly, then added even more softly, "... and dogs."

"You like snakes? Then you should be aware that the common grass snake is more properly referred to as 'Natrix Natrix'. And as that may be the only intelligent contribution you make to the class all term, I believe I shan't ask you anything else …" as Harry made an audible sigh of relief the teacher added, "… for the time being," crushing his short lived hopes.

"Class, the concept that I have been trying to drive into your miniscule cerebrums is not all that difficult to comprehend, so I fail to see why your infinitesimal intellects have failed to grasp that there is no such thing as … 'luck'. Therefore it stands to reason there is no reason what-so-ever to dwell on observances of such absurd legends, superstitions, and folderol."

He paused long enough to make eye contact individually with each child, to ensure their attention. "Forthwith, I want no further idle chatter in my classroom of providence, fortune, chance, or serendipitous happenstance. Now that I have made myself quite clear in that regard - if someone has an _intelligent_ question to pose, I would be more than happy to address it."

"Mr. Nathraichean?" Piers bravely raised his hand at the prodding of the gang.

"Yes, Mister Polkiss?" Mr. Nathraichean tried to plaster on his face what he thought the children would construe as a small patient smile, but instead it gave him the appearance of having acid indigestion.

"It's already the ninth of March."

"And your point being?"

"Well ... we was wondering what are we going to do for Arts and Crafts this month. Most the other classes are doing something for St. Patrick's Day and that just a week away."

"What did I tell you my first day of class Mister Polkiss?"

"There will be no foolish Arts and Crafts making in your class," Piers parroted.

"And what else?"

"Um … that we're a bunch of dunderheads?"

"Precisely Mister Polkiss. Bravo, you have succeeded in answering your own question."

The teacher started to turn his back to the class to begin writing math equations on the board, only to stop when he saw Dudley madly waving his hand in the air for attention.

"Yes, Mister Dursley? You have an_ intelligent _question?"

"Yeah … so if we aren't going to do a _**foolish**_ Arts and Crafts project what kind of Arts and Crafts project _**are **_we going to do?" Dudley asked perplexed. He was especially glad they weren't going to do something stupid again, like valentines or ornaments. In his opinion all Arts and Crafts were foolish and a waste of time. He just hoped whatever this teacher had in mind, that it didn't involve a lot of work and creativity.

Mr. Nathraichean heaved a heavy sigh. Nine-year-olds, their one-track minds made first years look like genius' in comparison. He felt old. Whatever made him agree to this? Come to think of it, he really didn't remember ever actually agreeing…

"As this conversation is becoming inanely redundant, I shall counter with a pertinent inquiry of my own … by what reasoning were you brought to the conclusion that you and your classmates have done anything remotely deserving of the reward of an Arts and Crafts project? Hm? Mister Dursley? Do you have an answer?"

Dudley scowled. Was the teacher making fun of him? That wasn't right. He was supposed to make fun of Harry, not him. Of course, they were going to have an Arts and Crafts project! They _always_ had to have an Arts and Crafts project! It was _required_ in Primary school … wasn't it? It must be! There was even a _whole_ section of the room dedicated just to Arts and Crafts!

"Because we haft to have one - that's why."

"We haft to have one - that's why," the teacher parroted back in a slow deliberate monotone as if dissecting each and every syllable to see if it could make sense.

'_Now I'm sinking to their level. If I'm here much longer I'll have green jell-o for brains.'_

"Er… Mr. Nathraichean?" a quiet voice from the back of the room caught his attention.

"Yes Mister…'_Krueger'? _You have something of value to add to this dialogue?_"_

"I … um … er … I think Dudley is right Sir … I think we have to have Arts and Crafts." Harry was reluctant to back up his cousin, but when he was right - he was right.

Moreover, although his new teacher was quite unpleasant, Harry didn't want him to get into trouble just because he didn't know what he was supposed to be teaching. That wasn't fair, he was just a substitute teacher like his mummy and Uncle Remmy had been, maybe he needed the job as they had. Maybe he didn't have any money for food either and he was hungry. Maybe that was why he was so grouchy all the time.

"Oh really?" the teacher sneered as twenty-two heads nodded affirmatively.

"Yeah!" Dudley remarked proudly that the entire class acknowledged him for being right.

"As I appear to be outvoted, I shall capitulate this time. What do you suggest we do for this… _project _… Mister Dursley?" he asked, surprising the blonde boy by turning back to him instead of beleaguering his cousin.

Dudley didn't care what the project was, as long as it was something easy. All they used to have to do to get a gold start was to colour within the lines. Gold stars made his mum happy, and when she was happy, she bought him toys. Therefore, he always took Harry's from him to give to her. Maybe something like that would do, however he didn't want to be the one to suggest such a babyish activity in front of his friends, so he finally just replied, "I dunno."

"I dunno. I dunno." Mr. Nathraichean mocked. "It appears as though we are at a veritable quandary. You all _insist _on an 'Arts and Crafts' project_,_" he said with a visible shudder "… and I _refuse_ to squander my time with triviality. Therefore, if we must, it will be something instructive."

Instructive? Dudley frowned. That _definitely_ sounded like work!

"Now for a focus …" he paced tapping his temple in thought. "Since Mister Dursley declined to provide one, and since the class has voiced an abhorrent enthrallment with the approaching Saint's day, of which our friends from across the pond are so terribly fond ... we shall centre the project on that topic. Given that Saint Patrick's reputed notoriety was of a biological nature, our emphasis will be on the flora and fauna indigenous to this … _charming _… locale."

Twenty-one befuddled but happy faces beamed back at him. Mr. Nathraichean had the sudden suspicion he had fallen into an evil munchkin trap. Children in his classes did not … _beam_. In fact, he was sure he had a rule against it. If he didn't have one he should, it was nauseating.

His first impulse was to blame Mister Dursley as he was the one who had brought the topic back up, only the look of utter dismay on Dudley's face, at the prospect of another holiday centric project dispelled the conclusion that he was the ringleader. No … so if Mister Dursley wasn't the cause of this pending fiasco, whom could he blame? AHA! Mister_…'Krueger'_! He had backed up the blonde boy, and he was the one that looked the 'happiest' at the mention of a project. He should have known Mister…_'Krueger'…_ was at the bottom of it.

Well if he must lead an Arts and Crafts project, he must. He had been hoping to avoid it entirely if he ignored it, although admittedly, the Principal did say something on his first day about it being a required activity. However, he would NOT allow Mister…_'Krueger' _to have any fun with it. No indeed, he would not - not at all. Mr. Nathraichean's black eyes bore holes through the object of his current irritation.

As the bell rang to dismiss class for the week, Mr. Nathraichean raised his hand and froze them all in their seats long enough to cast a pallor of doom over their weekend.

"I expect a one foot essay from each of you first thing Monday morning on the topic of the fallacies of St. Patrick's Day. I expect you to pay particular attention to plants or animals connected with the legend that you come across during your research."

At the incredulous looks and groans from the class, he added with certain satisfaction, "Remember - having an Arts and Crafts project was NOT my idea. You may thank your very own Mister…_'Krueger' _for the assignment."

The rest of the class turned as one and stuck their tongues out at Harry.

On the way home, Harry dragged his feet. The total hostility of his classmates, at the lack of a project that included glitter and glue, drove all thoughts of looking for the dog out of his mind. Thanks to his cousin, he hadn't ever been popular with the other kids, but now they positively hated him. Essay homework on the weekend! It wasn't fair. He hadn't suggested weekend homework, especially not an essay!

From the looks he had gotten on the way out of class, he was surprised when they hadn't all ganged together to beat him up. In fact, he was surprised that Dudley and his gang hadn't chased him down yet. Thinking about that eventuality, Harry picked up his pace and was soon running for the safety of home. Just as he neared the building, he could hear the pounding of heavy feet behind him. He sprinted the last few meters down the pavement, up the stoop, and through the door of the ground floor flat, just as Lily opened it to welcome him home.

"Glasses broken again?" Lily asked as she shut the door behind him, while bouncing the drooling baby Holly on her hip.

"Dudley again," Harry nodded handing the pieces over.

"That boy …" Lily tsked-tsked as she mended his spectacles with a wave of her wand, "… you know Dudley almost caught up with you this time. I was watching from the window. Maybe you ought to let him catch you just once and see what happens. It might really surprise him. Bullies are usually more bark than bite."

"Not Dudley - he's all bite! I _know_ what will happen if he catches me!" Harry said vehemently shaking his head.

"You do?"

"Yeah, he'll beat me up. I know - he used to catch me _**a lot**_." Harry confessed, and then at the sad look on his mummy's face he added, "… but he doesn't anymore - thanks to you."

"Thanks to me? What have I done? I can't seem to make the blackmailing little bully behave, any more than my sister can. And I had such hopes for him …" Lily shook her head and went into the kitchen where she put Holly in her carrier with a pacifier.

Harry followed her with a thoughtful look on his face. "But you've done lots! With all the nice lunches you make for me, it's easier to outrun him now!" he remarked trying to look on the bright side of his cousin problem as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"You mean he lets you eat your lunch now, so you have the energy to run faster?" Lily asked hopefully, placing a large glass of cold milk and a plate of warm tarts before him.

"… er … not so much … really … but the more he eats the slower he runs so it works out the same. Anyway, like you told me, it's the thought that counts … right?" Harry took a big bite of the warm gooey tart with clotted cream, and sighed with happiness. Treacle was his favourite.

"Hrumph! As you say - not so much, at least not for growing boy. I need to think of something. I shouldn't put a spell on Dudley - Petunia would kill me if she found out. I can't put a 'don't-eat-me-spell' on your lunch or you won't eat it either ... Hm …" Lily wrinkled her brow at the puzzle.

"Mummy?" Harry asked very timidly, "Maybe I know a way …"

'_Mummy! How she loved hearing him say that word! It wasn't very often, but when he did call her Mummy he could get just about anything in the world he asked for …'_

"… could I … _couldIhaveadog_?" Harry started out timidly, but then finished in a rush of words before he lost his nerve. "He could chase Dudley away while I eat my lunch!"

'… _well anything but that.'_

"Oh sweetie … I would love to say 'yes', but I can't - especially not now. Eventually your dad and I will get you a pet, maybe a nice kneazle or an owl. Magical children typically receive a pet when they turn eleven, to take with them when they go away to school, only we call them familiars. You'll only be ten this summer, but I tell you what - when we go back to the Wizarding world, that will be one of the first things on our shopping list. How does that sound?"

"But not - not a dog?"

"No honey … not a dog. We don't really have room for a dog. Besides, dog's are muggle pets, they're not magical - you wouldn't be able to take it to Hogwarts with you. Maybe you'd like a toad or a cat?"

"Not really …" Harry said sadly, losing his appetite and pushing away the plate of tarts. "… I always wanted a dog, but Aunt Petunia said they were too much of a nuisance and said I couldn't be trusted to take proper care of it."

Lily just couldn't bear to be the one to break her little boy's heart, not so soon after getting it back, so she took the easy way out - she passed the buck. "Well … you can ask your dad when he gets home. We'll leave it up to him."

"Really?" Harry said excitedly, perking back up immediately.

"Er ... yeah ..." Feeling quite guilty at the predicament into which she had just put her husband, she added quickly, "But whatever he says goes. If he says no … and I warn you, he most likely will, you have to promise me you won't be upset at him. Okay?"

"I promise!" Harry said happily and he started munching on his tarts again and began thinking up a good name for his large black furry friend.

'_Maybe 'Missy' or 'Betsy' or ... no it should be a flower name like 'Lily' and 'Holly' … maybe 'Daisy'. Hm … if it's a boy dog, Daisy won't work … what's a boy-sounding flower … I know! 'Cosmos'! That's a great name for a dog! YAY! Since Mummy said 'yes', all I need is for Daddy to say 'yes' too, and I'll have a dog of my very own!' _

"Did Dudley at least walk part way home with you today as he promised me he would, or did he chase you the whole way again?"

"Nah, he forgot until I was almost home. Then he tried to catch me, but I was too fast."

"I really don't like you walking home by yourself Harry …" Lily bit her lip to stifle a yawn, "… sorry … if it weren't for being up all night with Holly, I would be there to walk you home. You know that, don't you? New babies are just so tiring the first few months, and having one at the age of thirty is a lot different than when I was twenty-one."

"I know, and it's okay. I'm being really careful just like Daddy told me. Hey! Maybe I could take Holly to the park in her pram and you could take a nap?"

"Oh no you don't, young man! You can play with her right here. We'll spread out the blanket on the floor and it can be just like the park." At the disappointed look on his face she added, "I know it's hard to be cooped up all day when it is so nice out, but it isn't safe until we figure out what's going on in our world. Unless you are in school, or you have someone with you, you are to be here where I can protect you. The next time Dudley 'forgets' to walk with you - you remind him. Otherwise, I want you to wait in the school building with your teacher until your father can get you. Dudley may not be much protection, but it's not far and he's frightening enough to scare away any adult with any sense at all. So no walking home alone, promise me."

"But if I had a dog …" Harry started to protest but trailed off at a shake of his mummy's head. "… yes'm … I promise."

"Now tell me what you did in school today. Are you starting to like the new teacher?"

"Not really, but then he doesn't like me either. I don't know why, and the way he says my name … it's like he doesn't believe it."

"What do you mean?"

"He says it like … Mister_…'Krueger',_"he repeated doing a fair imitation of the loathing he heard every time Mr. Nathraichean said his name, illustrating with air quotes. "I wish Uncle Remmy was still teaching us, he was fun ..." Harry said with longing.

"Ooo … I see. Well, I do too. Remus is a great teacher and we could use the money, but I'm sure your new teacher is good too or they wouldn't have hired him. What is he having you do for Arts and Crafts? That's always the telling sign of a good Primary School teacher."

"We have to write an essay on Saint Patrick's Day," Harry sighed heavily.

"An essay? For Arts and Crafts?"

"Yes. Mr. Nathraichean says if we haft to do Arts and Crafts then it's got to be 'instructive' so he doesn't squander his time."

"Well I guess purely academic is one approach," she said doubtfully.

"One approach to what?" James asked coming in with Remus and planting kisses on the tops of his wife and progeny's heads, gathering a kiss back from Lily along with giggles from the kids.

"One approach to Arts and Crafts in a Primary School class. Harry's new teacher is having them _write _essays on St. Patrick's Day instead of _actually_ crafting something."

"It seems to me you made Harry do the same thing about Christmas," James teased.

Puzzled, Remus looked from one to the other. Taking in Lily's embarrassed flush and James' smugness, he finally asked, "Okay what'd I miss?"

"Nothing," James and Lily answered in unison.

Then Harry added softly, "It's okay Mummy, I've pretty much lived it down. Besides … if you hadn't punished me, my Angel might not have found you and Daddy for me. And … and I'm glad she did, so I am glad you did too."

"Oh Harry! I'm glad too." Lily gathered her little boy up in her arms and carried him sniffling into the living room to cuddle. In the meantime James told Remus their Christmas story, and of what they had found out of Harry's life before they found and rescued him, and of the very close call they had had finding him in time.

Remus soon joined them in the living room, along with James who was carrying Holly football style under one arm. The two men sat down on the comfy couch on either side of Lily, who was still holding a very cuddly and slightly tearful Harry.

Remus took a deep breath and apologized, "I'm so sorry Harry."

"…'bout what Uncle Remmy?" Harry asked softly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I'm sorry you had to live through that. And I'm sorry you were lost for eight years."

"But Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia knew _exactly_ where I was, and they made sure I stayed there by locking me in the cupboard. I wasn't losted at all!" Harry protested.

"Maybe, however it was my fault that you were lost from the ones who really loved you - your mum and dad."

"Your fault? I don't understand. How could it be your fault when you weren't even there?"

"That's just it - I wasn't there and I should have been. You see, on that horrible night when the Evil Wizard attacked your family, your godfather Sirius came to me and told me that he had saved them but that he thought you had died. However, your father now thinks that in-between Sirius rescuing him, and when he went back in to search for you and your mum, that someone else rescued you, which he why he couldn't find you. In retrospect, I think I know who that person was, and I think that he tried to tell me you were safe, but I blew it and didn't listen."

"It's okay Uncle Remmy."

"Thanks, but if I just hadn't been so angry, I would have known all those years ago that you were alive. If I had, maybe I could have done something so that your childhood would have been better. All these years I have been upset with Sirius for not listening, and letting his anger get the better of him, and as it turns out I did the same thing."

"Who were you angry at? Was it … me?" Harry asked quietly, fingering the buttons on the front of his mother's blouse, his head still nestled cosily under her chin as she rocked him gently and rubbed his back.

"No Harry - never at you! I was angry with a man named Albus Dumbledore. He's a powerful wizard, and it was his plan we were following to keep you safe. When it failed, I blamed him. He sent me a message that night saying he had wonderful news and needed to see me right away. Only I was so angry that I burned the rest of the message without reading it, and sent the ashes back to him. All I can think now is that he must have been the one that found and saved you from the rubble. He must have sent me the note so I would know you were alive and all right. I think he was the one that left you with your aunt and uncle. If only I hadn't burned the note …"

"Then why did you burn it? Didn't – didn't you want me?"

"Of course I did Harry! I love you! If they'd had let me raise you, I would have taken you for my own child in a heartbeat. I burned the note, because at the time, I thought Dumbledore was just celebrating that the Evil Wizard was dead - and I was grieving over the price paid to make that happen. Since I thought that the price was your life, I couldn't imagine celebrating, and couldn't forgive Dumbledore for wanting to do so. I am afraid however, that even if I had responded to his note, they wouldn't have let me have you, because I'm a … a ..."

"You mean because of your 'furry little problem'?" Harry asked locking eyes with Remus, and using the affectionate term his daddy had used to describe Remus' lycanthrope.

"Yes," Remus confirmed bitterly. "The Ministry, feel that I'm too 'unsafe', to be around children."

"They're wrong," Harry said with conviction. "And … I- I love you too," he said flinging his arms around his favourite uncle's neck and giving him a hug.

"Thank you Harry." The genuine affection and forgiveness in Harry's voice healed him. "Believe me when I say that even though the Ministry wouldn't have let me raise you myself, I would have found a way to be part of your life. And while I was searching for your parents, I would have found a way to have made sure that your relatives didn't neglect you as they did."

"I believe you."

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" Remus sobbed, hugging the child back.

"Well …" Harry paused while a brilliant idea took shape - then whispered in his uncle's ear.

"If you keep this up you are destined for Slytherin, you know that don't you Prongslet?"

"You said that wrong … remember? I'm the 'Princelet'," Harry said proudly.

"Prongslet … Princelet … the way you are going, it all spells out S.N.A.K.E." Remus laughed.

"But will you ask for me? Huh? Will you? I really really really really REALLY need one! Pleaaassseee?" Harry begged hopefully, fairly bouncing up and down by this time.

"Um … I think I left something in the oven …" From the look on her son's face Lily knew quite well, what he wanted Remus to ask and to whom, so she made a strategic withdrawal.

"Ah … sorry cub, but that is a 'no'. Unfortunately, that's one question, that's strictly between father and son. As a discrete uncle, who wishes to avoid your father hexing me again, I think it is about time I bow out of this family scene. Besides, I need to go downstairs and start preparing my humble abode. I have some new locks to install. The ones from last month are rather ... ah ... 'bent'."

"Chicken," Lily called from the kitchen.

"It takes one to know one my dear," Remus retorted.

"That too, but I meant we're having chicken for supper and you're welcome to come back up."

"Thanks, I will." Remus gave her a grateful smile before making a quick exit of his own and closing the door firmly behind him, leaving a clueless father and a conniving son staring at each from opposite ends of the comfy couch.

Holly gurgled and limberly gummed her toes as she lay between them, listening interestedly to the conversation. Whatever it was her big bother wanted, she wanted it too.

"So … Harry …" James was not sure after Lily and Remus' hasty retreats, that he wanted to find out what it was his son 'really really really really REALLY' needed. Not sure at all. "… um … how was your day? In school that is?" he finished lamely.

"Oh … it was all right ... I guess …" Harry was a little dejected that all his would be supporters had deserted him so easily. Didn't they both say they wouldn't ever leave him again? Maybe that promise was just for boys who didn't want a dog …

"That's good." James was relieved, and promptly flipped open his paper. Maybe it was nothing. He tried to bury his nose in it and ignore the woe-is-me look from the other end of the couch.

'_Not going there - probably wants to borrow my broom. Take him for a ride on it once and he thinks he owns the thing, or maybe he wants to use my wand to turn Dudley into a toaster. I might say 'yes' to that. Probably shouldn't though … Lily wouldn't like it.'_

"Er ...?"

'_Here it comes, brace __yourself old man. Remember, whatever it is - just be firm …' _

James could hear Lily giggling at his predicament from the kitchen and he scowled at her from behind the paper he was holding like a shield. Obviously, she knew what Harry's question was going to be, and she hadn't wanted to say 'no' to it herself, so she made him out to be the heavy. She may be two months his senior but he'd show her he could handle it! He's show her he was resolute enough to stand up to a nine-year-old. He could be the responsible parent! He could! He was all grown up now! Gods! He was almost thirty years old himself! He had three decades of experience behind him. He not only _could_ do it, he _would_ do it!

'… _so practice it James … the answer is NO, N.O. 'No'. Not a hard word, very simple word indeed … no no no no no. I heard it a few times growing up myself. Nothing wrong with I, use it all the time, perfectly good word.'_

"Yes Son?"

"Can I … can I have a … a-a puppy?" Harry asked shyly, thinking if he asked for a 'puppy' and not 'dog', that it wouldn't sound nearly as BIG to his daddy as it had to his mummy.

He had reasoned out that just because they didn't have room for a 'dog', it didn't mean that they wouldn't for a 'puppy'. So what if the big black dog he had in mind didn't really _look_ like a puppy, it certainly _acted_ like one - and since he didn't know how old it was … it could be just a VERY BIG puppy? Just as Dudley had been a VERY BIG baby? Well … it _could_ happen …

"… _coo! … gurgle! …" _Holly cooed happily and waved her hands with delight. She had no idea what a puppy was but if Harry wanted one, then that was good enough for her!

"… a-a-a- a 'puppy'? Did you ask your mother?" James asked his voice cracking with surprise. THAT was NOT even remotely anything close to what he thought Harry would ask him for, and he wasn't prepared for it ... thanks to his backstabbing wife.

"Er … yes?"

"And what did she say?"

"To ask you …"

"Oh she did, did she? Did she say anything else?" he asked, his eyes narrowing and shooting daggers towards the blithe redhead humming gaily in the kitchen.

Harry sighed and reluctantly repeated the rest about 'maybe' when they went back to the Wizarding world, and then 'maybe' a cat or an owl or a toad, but not a dog.

"Well I _always_ agree with your mum …" James said loudly over the derisive snort from the kitchen, "… so the answer to a dog is 'no' - for all the reasons she said. But we can certainly look into a nice pygmy puff when we go back."

This was going nowhere fast. Didn't they understand? He didn't need a pet when he got back to the Wizarding world, and he certainly didn't need a pygmy puff, whatever that was, what he needed was a_ DOG -_ a _BIG BLACK DOG,_ and he needed it _NOW!_

"But … Daddy … I …"

'_HA! Remus was right … trying to play the 'daddy' card is he? Maybe he will be a Slytherin. Well it won't work with this Gryffindor.'_

"No buts, Son. Your mum is right. We just don't have room for a dog right now."

"Okay fine," Harry pouted and slid off the couch and headed towards his room.

"Where are you going Harry? It's about time for supper," Lily called out.

"Not hungry - going to do my homework," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry James - it was mean of me to put you in that spot," Lily apologized contritely as she went to sit by her huffy husband. "But I just couldn't look into those big sad green eyes and say 'no' to the first thing he really ever asked me for - I just couldn't."

"So you made me?"

"But you handled it so well …" she flattered him.

"Can't butter me up woman. You owe me big time for this one. Now fetch me my supper," James ordered.

"It's only because I agree that I 'owe you big time', that your supper isn't dumped all over you right now at that order Sir!"

Harry had left because he didn't want to hear his parents talk anymore about why he couldn't have a dog. Closing the door behind him, he went over and shut the window before flopped down on his bed dejectedly. Not in the mood to work on his essay, he fisted his pillow and curled up in a dejected ball. Why did he even bother to ask?

Once when he was much younger, Harry had asked his aunt and uncle if he could have a puppy. His uncle declared it a fine idea and agreed that every boy needed a pup. The Dursleys promptly went to Aunt Marge's and got a bulldog puppy, and gave it to Dudley. After one week of Dudley forgetting to feed, water, and exercise the pup, it chewed through its rope and ran away. Aunt Petunia said it proved that Harry wasn't trustworthy enough to care for a dog. How unfair! Dudley hadn't even let him even get near enough to it to pet it! How was he supposed to take care of it?

Harry shivered in a sudden draft and fell into a fitful sleep, unaware of the pair of shrewd eyes appraising him from outside the window, hidden in the deep shadows of the alley.

Such a small boy, and such flimsy defences, the shadowy figure scoffed shaking his head. As if a mere pane of glass would keep away the evils without. Foolish muggles! They hadn't even bother to close it he noted as the curtains fluttered in the slight breeze – it might as well be an engraved invitation saying 'here he is, come and get him.'

A whispered incantation, and the window slid silently shut just as a flash of lightning faded and plunged both the alley, and the observer, once again into the anonymity of darkness. Another flash revealed only an empty alley remained.

Half an hour later Lily poked her head in the door and signalled to James to be quiet as she carried Holly into her crib, "Harry's already asleep." Moving to his bed, she pulled the cover over him and noticed the tracks of tears drying on his cheeks. "He's been crying … and he never did come back for supper. I guess he was more upset about not getting a dog than we thought."

"He did say he really needed one - times five. That's a pretty big need for a small boy." James said thoughtfully as slid the windowpane closed. "Maybe we ought to …"

"We already discussed it James - we need to be the parents here," Lily said firmly. "We'll let him have his pick of a pet when we get back … but right now? A dog? You've got to be kidding. Where would we put it? Sure, we have the larger flat now, but it isn't as if we have a house with a garden. Dogs need a lot of room."

"I know that's all reasonable and responsible … but I- I just want to make up for everything he didn't have … " James said putting on his best puppy-dog-eyes face. "Maybe when we go back we could get him a puppy? A small one?"

"You're as bad as your son. Small ones grow big," Lily laughed.

"Does that mean yes?"

"That means maybe."

"Tease!" He captured her lips in a playful kiss before she could change it back to a firm 'no'.

POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND!

"I wish they'd get over it!" James growled at the ceiling, referring to his in-laws now ensconced in the flat above them. "They're going to wake our kids."

"It's not likely they will get over it in our lifetimes, no matter how many of them we have. But I'll talk with Petunia again tomorrow." Lily sighed as they turned out the light and left the room.

… _(thump) … _

'… _there's nothing under the bed … ' _

… _(thump) … (thump) … _

'… _nothing but us dust bunnies …'_

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) …_

'… _huuungrrry dust bunnies …'_

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) …_

When Harry turned over in his sleep, one foot slipped out from under the covers, leaving his toes dangling irresistibly delicious over the edge.

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … lick! …_

"**DAAADYYY!" **Harry screamed bloody murder as he jumped up and ran out of the room.

"Harry! What's wrong?" James asked whipping out his wand at the cry.

"Help me Daddy! There's something under my bed and it tried to eat my toes!" Harry flung his arms around James' waist and hung on for dear life. James edged into the room with Harry still clinging to him for protection, and peered under the bed and declared it monster-free.

A boom of thunder rolled in the open window. Harry clung tighter shouting "Yes there is!"

"It was probably just the storm that frightened you. I'll close the window." Tucking Harry back into bed, James sat on the edge and brushed the hair away from his son's face.

'_Too bad that all monsters can't be banished as easily,' _he thought looking at the lightning bolt shaped scar on Harry's forehead and taking his small hand in his big one. Lost in thought about monsters - real and imagined, he stayed until his son drifted back off to sleep.

Saturday morning dawned as grey and damp as Remus Lupin felt. March tenth, hip-hip-hooray … he thought derisively … yay me. It was his birthday, the big three-oh _and_ the day before the full moon. How more fortunate could he get? He doubted anyone would remember the first, and if he drank enough, maybe he wouldn't remember the later.

Sighing he got up and took one of his few remaining doses of wolfsbane out of his trunk. Downing half of it with a shudder of revulsion, he noticed that he could count the remaining vials on one hand. He'd soon have to seek out Severus Snape. He couldn't put it off past this moon's cycle, as he didn't have enough for another month. It was just that he'd gotten so happy for a change reuniting with James and his family that he had forgotten. As soon as he recovered from this month's transformation, he'd have to head for London.

Someone in Diagon Alley must know where he could find Severus. Eight years ago, he heard rumours that Dumbledore had hired him to teach at Hogwarts. However, with his brains, he was undoubtedly a rich Master of Potion's by now, with many patents to his credit and a swanky villa somewhere in the Mediterranean. It was always the quiet bookish types, who ended up the richest. Severus was probably no exception.

Strange that everything in his life always came full circle, just like the cycle of the moon. In his werewolf form, he almost killed Severus once, and now Severus was the only wizard he trusted to brew the wolfsbane potion that allowed him to hold onto what little control he had on his life.

He only hoped that Severus would take pity on him and his empty pocket book, as he didn't have anything left after James' latest scheme. He loved James and Lily as a brother and sister, and he would do anything for their kids, but sometimes James forgot that not everyone had vaults full of gold at their disposal. Remus chided himself for thinking the unfair comment. James had done remarkably well living as a muggle, considering he had no muggle skills of which to boast. He wasn't flush with cash but he was providing a living of sorts. His family hadn't starved, and they had a roof over their heads - and they had extended that roof to include him.

Remus didn't begrudge loaning James the money. It was for a good cause, and he knew that eventually James would repay him. It was even a little ironic that for a change, he had actually had more funds than his friend had. If he were to be totally honest, he had gotten a kick out of offering it when James hadn't even asked, so he couldn't blame him for accepting - especially when he had been so desperate to pay off Vernon.

It was just too bad it hadn't worked. Now they were both broke, neither he nor Lily were teaching, and James was working double shifts everyday to make up for it. What they needed was cash and lots of it. Remus stretched out on his bed and racked his brain. There had to be a way, there just had to, all they needed was some luck…

While Remus was deep in thought, one floor up James was having identical ones.

"All I need is some luck …" James said shoving his feet into his work boots and then looking around for his jacket.

"Luck?" Harry asked scrambling to retrieve the garment, the sleeve of which he could see peeking out from behind the chair where his daddy had tossed it the night before.

"Yeah Son, I need some luck and lots and lots of it. How about you being my lucky charm?" James asked swinging him up in his arms and giving him a big hug.

"How can I be a charm?" Harry asked in all seriousness, thinking about the charm bracelet that his daddy had gotten his mummy for her birthday at the end of January. It had four little silver charms on it, his daddy had picked out a lily, a stag, and a leaf of holly, and he had picked the fourth, a small lightning bolt. However, they were all very small, and he was quite big in comparison. "Do you have to shrink me?"

"No, I think you are just the right size. But let me check …" James laughed suddenly swinging him upside down, so his arms dangled. "Ooof! You're getting heavy, but you're just the right size to reach all the way to the floor," he proclaimed lowering a giggling Harry the rest of the way down. "I'm sorry about not being able to take you to the park this weekend, but I have a shift both days - double weekend pay. I couldn't turn it down."

"That's okay, maybe Uncle Remmy will want to play with me."

"Um … I don't think Uncle Remmy is feeling all that well right now. Too many pies again."

"Oh …" Harry said with understanding. He was disappointed but he understood what that meant. It was his parent's way of saying that Uncle Remmy was ill and had to be by his self. "But what about cake? If he's ill from too much pie … does that mean he can't have cake?"

"Cake?"

"Yes! Mummy says it's his birthday and I'm going to help her bake him a surprise cake!"

"I'm sure he'll be there. Nobody can resist your mum's cake."

"YAY!" Harry shouted jumping up and down as Lily handed James his lunch.

"Sorry, bologna again."

"Bologna? I was thinking it would be chicken …" James pouted.

"Then you should have thought about that before you raided the icebox last night."

"Wasn't me!" James protested his innocence.

"Wasn't me!" Harry echoed. He _never_ raided the icebox, no matter how hungry he got. Well, once - but Uncle Vernon made sure that he never thought of doing it again.

"I suppose you expect me to believe it was Holly?"

"… _wasn't me either! I like mashed nanas … I think it was the dust bunny … he was funny …" _Holly gurgled and drooled, and kicked her feet.

"Maybe Remus got hungry and didn't want to wake us," Lily said doubtfully.

"That's probably it." James agreed, giving out kisses and hugs as he left for work. "Tell you what - seeing as its Moony's birthday, I'll try to pick up something from the butcher counter. They hold the day before leftovers for the employees and sell it to us cheap. If I hurry, and if I'm lucky …" he added ruffling Harry's hair, "… maybe I'll get first pick and they'll have some steaks. Moony likes his rare," he commented as he went out the door.

"Don't forget, supper's early tonight!" Lily called after him. A faint 'Righty-o' wafted back.

"It looks like it's just us today," Lily smiled at Harry. "How about we bake that cake?"

"Can I make it myself?" Harry asked eagerly. "I really am good at cookery."

"Well … okay, as long as you let me help."

Several hours later the kitchen looked much like a white dust storm had blown through as every surface was covered with flour, including the little pastry chef, but on the kitchen table stood a magnificent triple layer chocolate cake with fluffy white butter-cream frosting and 'Happy Birthday Uncle Remmy' written across it with blue icing.

"I thought you said you were good at cookery." Lily laughed surveying the mess.

"I am …" Harry grinned licking the last speck of frosting out of the bowl. "… just not so good at cleaning up. I guess that's why Aunt Petunia had me practice that a lot."

"That settles it, I'll clean up. You go play." Lily shooed him away to play with Holly in the living room, while she made the kitchen sparkling clean with a few well-placed spells, and thought countless dark uncharitable thoughts about her sister Petunia. After making Harry some lunch, she fed Holly and put her down for a nap. Then she steeled herself - it was time to talk with her sister again. She had promised James she would.

"Harry sweetie?"

"Yes'm?" he looked up from the birthday card he was colouring for his Uncle Remmy.

"Why don't you go in your room and work on that essay you mentioned? I need to talk with your Aunt Petunia in private and I'm going to have her come down here for tea."

"Okay Mummy." Harry agreeably trotted into his room leaving a very happily glowing 'mummy' behind.

"That's funny, I don't remember leaving the window open - no wonder it's so cold in here." Harry shivered slightly as he pushed down the pane and then sat down at the little desk in front of it. Pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil, he stared at it for a while before drawing a doodle of a dog on all four corners. Then he crumpled it up, tossed it behind him, and got a fresh sheet.

"I better get started for real." After thinking for a moment, he started the essay by writing '_Saint Patrick's Day by Harry James Potter' _on the top of the page. He critiqued it, frowned, then erased the last part and replaced it with '_Saint Patrick's Day by Harry Krueger'. N_o wonder his new teacher didn't believe his last name, how could he if he didn't even believe it himself? He would have to be more careful!

After several diligent hours of doodles, half-hearted writing attempts, and changing Holly whenever she fussed, Harry decided that he really didn't know anything about Saint Patrick.

He supposed he should have been paying attention in class, but that low monotone voice when Mr. Nathraichean lectured, made his mind zone out big time. And after what his mummy said about staying inside, he knew a trip to the library would be out of the question. No point in even asking - if they said no to a little thing like a dog, there was no way they'd say yes to him having something as big as an entire library to himself.

Stabbing a pencil through his latest doodle of a big black bat he sighed and gave up, tossing it over his shoulder to add to the growing hill of rejects. At this rate, it would take him all weekend. Maybe his mummy or daddy, or Uncle Remmy, would know what he could write. With the door closed, he couldn't hear the words of the conversions in the living room clearly, but he could tell when voices came and went. He heard his aunt's high-pitched voice come and go, and he heard when his Uncle Remmy's hoarse voice replaced it, joined soon after by the voice of his daddy coming home. He could already smell supper cooking and knew it would be ready soon. Getting up he kicked the crumpled papers out of his path, and got Holly out of her crib, where she had been happily entertaining herself by chewing on her toes. After making sure she wasn't wet, he carried her in to join the adults for the birthday supper, past the papers littering the rug.

Now that he had a room of his own, he wanted to make sure they wouldn't take it away, so he was doing his best to keep it tidy as his mummy had asked him to. He made a mental note to pick up the mess before he went to bed. For right now however, the irresistible aroma of the sizzling steaks was making his tummy growl. However, as his aunt had not ever allowed him to have steak before, saying it was too costly to waste on the likes of him, he was unsure of his welcome when he greeted the adults and slid shyly into his seat at the kitchen table. He tried not to act surprised when he found to his delight that he not only got to have a steak, instead of just budget ground meat, but that he got to have one all to himself! Not that he could possibly eat that much, but he was certainly going to give it his best try.

After supper, Harry carefully got the large cake out of the pantry where they had hidden it earlier, and pushed in the candles his daddy had brought home. Carrying it to the table, he placed it before Remus, who then spent several minutes unsuccessfully trying to blow the out candles. He got quite red in the face trying to undo the spell that was keeping them lit, until James laughingly admitted they were trick muggle candles he found at the store.

After replacing them with a real candle, Remus said he was too old and tired, now that he was an ancient thirty, to try again. Therefore, he bequeathed his candle and its wish to Harry, whom he had noticed looking at it longingly. The instant happiness on Harry's face, and his innocent admission that he'd never had before had a birthday candle to blow out, made him glad he had.

James gave Remus a silver flask that had found and polished up, to carry his wolfsbane potion in, saying while it wouldn't taste any better at least it would look better. Lily had knitted him a warm jumper of soft blue grey wool, to match his eyes. Harry shyly offered him the birthday card he had made himself. It had a drawing on the cover of boy with black hair and round glasses hugging a large grey wolf, and inside it simply said -

_Happy Birthday Uncle Remmy. I'm glad you're my uncle now. You're much better than the last one. I love you - Harry_

As Remus teared up, Harry threw his arms around his neck and gave him a heartfelt hug. In that moment, Remus felt whole and wonderful. He couldn't think of a better present, and was glad that they hadn't forgotten his birthday as he had wished earlier.

Feeling relaxed and truly happy for the first time in many years, Remus loitered at the supper table, eating cake, and relishing in the jovial companionship of his friends. He had missed this - feeling almost like a normal person. It made him reluctant to seal himself in his cell, although he felt the almost irresistible pull of the nearly full moon. It wouldn't reach its zenith until tomorrow, and for now, the wolfsbane was doing its job.

Looking around at the faces of the people he loved, he noticed that Harry seemed a bit antsy and preoccupied. There were several times when he looked like he was about to ask something, but then someone would laugh at a joke or make a comment, and the moment would be lost. At a lull in the conversation, the little boy finally spoke up and broached the question that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

"I have to write an essay this weekend about Saint Patrick and all I know about him is there is a day named after him. Do you know anything I can write?"

"Saint Patrick's Day is coming up?" James asked with a note of melancholy in his voice. "That is … at least it was … Padfoot's birthday."

"That's right. We were all March babies, I remember the month long parties we had in the boy's dorm at Hogwarts," Remus reminisced with a far-away look on his face.

"Yeah, those were good times, and just one other thing that made us brothers. Yours was on the tenth, Padfoot's on the seventeenth, and then mine on the twenty-seventh," James listed.

"You're forgetting someone," Lily commented thinking of Peter Pettigrew, the fourth Marauder whose birthday had fallen on March first.

"No I'm not." James said petulantly, "I'm purposely rewriting the calendar to exclude that particular day. February doesn't have enough days as it is. It's always been a rather short nasty little month. It deserves to have the short nasty little rat's day added to it. From now on March starts on the second."

"But Daddy …?" Harry tugged on his sleeve and at his heartstrings at the same time. "I have to write about Saint Patrick! I don't think my teacher wants to hear about birthdays."

"Right you are … well let's see now … how about … Saint Patrick was a great guy who drove all the snakes out of Ireland in a turquoise 1962 Ford Angelica. Unfortunately, he forgot to offer the same service to Hogwarts."

"James!"

"Just kidding Lily."

"Don't you like snakes?" Harry was a little fearful that his slinky friends would be as taboo as were dogs. During the long hot summers when he slaved in his aunt's garden, the little grass snakes were the only friends that he had had. He would hate to lose them too.

"Oh they're all right … just not my favourite, say like lions, or even the spare raven or badger. But I suppose there is a place for them somewhere in the world too."

"Very big of you James."

"Thanks Remus."

"I like grass snakes … oh sorry … Natrix Natrix," Harry corrected as he studiously stabbed at his cake with his fork. "I think they're funny."

James looked at his son oddly. Where did he learn the Latin for grass snake?

"I don't seem to remember 'funny' being a word used to describe any snake I ever met."

"They talk really loooooow and sloooooow, and they use big words just like my teacher does, only they hiss a lot more." Harry nodded with all seriousness.

"Oh they do, do they? Don't tell me you now want a snake as a pet?"

"No, I still want a puppy …" Harry said wistfully.

"If you can find one that talks to you like your snakes do, maybe I'll consider it." James offered winking at Remus.

"James! Quit getting his hopes up when you know you don't mean it," Lily admonished him from across the table, feeding Holly peas only to have her spit them back out.

"Oh but I do Lily, I do. Think about it. If Harry finds a dog that can talk …"

"James … I know you want it to be different, we all do - but Sirius is gone. You have to face facts, he drown in the sea trying to escape. We woke up too late," she said softly.

"I know what they said Lil, but I can still hope they were wrong. If Harry did find him, then that is one mutt I would definitely say 'yes' to keeping."

"But what are the chances? In the articles Remus found, the dementors claimed they found his body. Look at him …" Lily said nodding at Harry whose face was alternating between hopeful and crestfallen, "… it's not fair to tease him like this."

"You're right, there's only a one in a billion chance. Pay me no attention Son, your old man was just indulging in a little wishful thinking."

"Wishing about what? Do you want a dog too?"

"Sort of … I was just wishing your godfather Sirius would miraculously come home just as Moony did. But it would take an awful lot of luck for that to happen, and we're fresh out of that, along with everything else," he said before draining the last drop out of his coffee mug, and gazing sadly at the empty pot.

"Mr. Nathraichean says there no such thing as luck. He says it's all folding and rolling."

"Folding and rolling?"

"Yeah, and Mr. Nathraichean said the legend of Saint Patrick was about a bird," Harry added, tactfully bringing the conversation back around to his choice of topics. "I thought it was about leprechauns."

"Lily - either this Mr. Nathraichean is a nut job, or we need to get young one's hearing checked," James frowned.

"I think young one just needs to pay attention in class and not daydream when the teacher is talking. There's nothing the matter with his hearing. In fact he hears all too much sometimes."

"Is that right young one?"

"Yes Sir," Harry admitted softly hanging his head.

"So what was it the teacher really said about Saint Patrick?"

"I don't know … I wasn't _exactly_ paying attention in class. And now I have to write an essay about it before Monday morning! And Mr. Nathraichean already doesn't like me …" he trailed off pathetically his eyes begging for help.

"Well, we can't have that, can we Moony?" James asked giving the other man a knowing look. They'd had their share of 'not exactly paying attention' in school and getting into trouble for it.

"No indeed, between the two of us we can fill Harry's head with enough facts for one essay."

"Fill him with a lot of folderol you mean," Lily snorted.

"That's the word - folderol!" Harry squealed in delight.

"Ah I see … 'folderol' equals 'folding and rolling'. So 'about a bird' must have been what?" James said puzzled tapping his forehead in thought.

"Absurd?" Remus guessed.

"By Jove I think you've got it! Ten points for Gryffindor!" James called out as he swung Harry out of his chair and carried him into the living room and tossed him on the couch.

"Now for the legend of Saint Patrick, it's not all folderol or absurd at all ..." James, Lily, and Remus spent the next few hours debating all the myths and legends they could think of surrounding Saint Patrick.

Over the years in his search for the Potters, Remus had travelled several times to America, where they celebrated the holiday more widely and raucously than they did in England. Therefore, he knew a lot about their modern day lore and customs that he added into the mix. Soon Harry's head was swimming with snakes, leprechauns, four-leaf clovers, wishbones, green rivers, and bright rainbows with pots of gold at their ends.

By the time dusk approached, Harry was sleeping curled up on his daddy's lap mumbling about hunting for luck. After Remus left for his own flat for the remainder of the weekend, James and Lily carried Harry in to bed and tucked him in.

"I must remind Harry to not leave the window open." Lily shivered and distractedly reached over with a nursing Holly cradled in her arms to slide down the pane of glass to shut out the damp evening air. "However, he is doing a very nice job of keeping his room clean," she observed looking around at the tidy room with a reluctant nod of approval.

"What? You mean there are no fanged tootsies-eating dust bunnies under the bed for you to eradicate? Are you feeling as if you aren't needed or something?" James teased.

Lily was a bit embarrassed that it was so obvious. "It's just he's so self-sufficient. He even offered to watch Holly so I could take a nap. It makes me wonder who the mum is."

Then as an early spring thundercloud let loose a flash of lightning, James turned to look out into twilight and shuddered. "It looks like we're in for a storm again tonight. It isn't going to be a fit night out for man, nor beast."

"Speaking of which, we know where one of our 'beasts' is, and he's safe and sound," Lily said fondly speaking of Remus. "But where do you think the other one really is? Do you think they're telling the truth - or do you think he somehow managed to do the impossible and is somewhere safe? He did so much for us … it breaks my heart we were so close, but so late … I really want to believe he's out there … somewhere."

"I do too." James sighed. "After reading those newspaper articles about us, that were dead wrong, I don't trust anything I read now. But I don't know what else to think, I don't realistically see how he could have made it and I know it's even foolish to hope. I just don't know ... maybe Harry can find us some of that luck and he'll come back to us." James wrapped his arms around her and the baby to warm them up.

"I hope so."

"Me too, my love, me too."

… _(thump) … _

"There they go again!" James said glaring at the ceiling.

"At least it's not as loud in here," Lily agreed leading him out of the room and shutting the door behind them.

… _(thump) … (thump) … _

'… _that's right - pay no attention to me … I'm just a little dust bunny … ' _

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) …_

'… _there's nothing under the bed to worry about …'_

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) …_

'… _probably …'_

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … _

"Wha'?" Harry groggily rubbed his eyes and felt around for his glasses. When he didn't find them or the wall nearby on either side, or the ceiling low over his head, he felt disoriented. Everything felt wrong, and sounded wrong. He didn't remember going to bed, and yet he was in a bed - a nice soft warm bed with a fluffy pillow. Fluffy pillow?

OH NO! He must be in Dudley's room! He must have fallen asleep while he was cleaning it! He had to be quiet! He had to stop making that noise! His aunt and uncle were sure to be mad! Sitting up with a start, he heard Holly cooing in her sleep on the other side of the room and his heart slowed back down, and he let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He wasn't in his cupboard. This was his home now. This was his bed. This was his room… and he wasn't making that noise…

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … _

It seemed to be coming from under his bed. Under which the gaping hole directly connected to the netherworld was to be found …

… _(thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) … (thump) …_

No, make that 'definitely'. The noise was _definitely_ coming from under his bed, and it was definitely getting louder…

… (THUMP) … (THUMP) … (THUMP) … (THUMP) … (THUMP) … (THUMP) … (THUMP) …

Now it was definitely _coming out_ from under his bed!

… _THUMP! … THUMP! … THUMP! … __**THUMP! … THUMP! … THUMP! … LICK! …**_

"AAAaaagggghhhh!" The toe-eating dust bunnies were attacking! He was about to die!

… _**LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … LICK! … **_

As flashbacks to the playground attack played through his mind, he identified the slobbering wet tongue as one that could only belong to a dog. He started to shout with joy, 'You're here! I got my wish!', but remembering in time to be quiet, it just came out as a loud whisper instead.

"Come up here boy!"he invited patting the bed.

The big dog didn't need any further inducement as on top of the bed, and on top of his boy, was exactly where he intended to be. The dog stepped onto the mattress without much effort at all and plopped himself down on top of the boy and proceeded lick every bit of him he could reach with his large pink tongue.

"Stop it!" Harry giggled at the sandpaper bath and hugging the mangy mutt. "I was so worried about you! Where did you go? Mr. Nathraichean thought I made you up."

'… who's that? ... do I care? … I don't think I care … do I? ... probably not … my fur is wet … and you smell like steak … do you have steak? ... I like steak … even more than I like chicken … and I like chicken ... but not more than I like you! … I found you … you thought you could hide … but you couldn't … I found you … I found my boy … and you smell like steak!'

"I didn't introduce myself earlier, I'm Harry. But I don't know who you are," he said formally, looking at the dog puzzled he asked, "are you a Daisy or a Cosmos?"

Now it was the dog's turn to look puzzled. He just cocked his big furry head at him with his big pink drooly tongue lolling out one side.

'… _what? ...'_

"Are you a girl dog?"

"Grrrrr"

"Are you a boy dog then?"

"Woof! Woof!"

"Quiet!" Harry shushed him. "A boy then - that means you're 'Cosmos'! Isn't that a great name! Course if you had been a girl it was going to be 'Daisy', but you're a boy so 'Cosmos' is better."

'… _oh you named me? ... pretty sure of yourself aren't you? … what if I already have a perfectly good name or two? ...' the_ dog thought with a slightly miffed look on his face.

"Don't you like 'Cosmos'? I thought it was rather nice," Harry asked disappointed by his reaction.

'… _well it is appropriate … it covers the entire galaxy that way … not just a random star here or there … rather all inclusive and impressive … I suppose it would do ...' _the dog mused to himself before giving the boy an accepting lick.

"I'm glad you like it," Harry giggled in return. "I always liked those flowers."

'… _flowers? ... you want to name me after a flower?' _the dog looked alarmed. _'… I thought you meant the galaxy, the universe, all the stars in the heavens, the COSMOS! ...' _He was suddenly doubtful about what he had just agreed to.

"Cosmos are those bright pink flowers on really skinny stalks. My Aunt Petunia thought they were weeds, she didn't like them at all - said they were common looking. She made me pull them out of the flowerbeds and throw them on the compost pile whenever she saw one growing in her garden. But I liked them, I thought they were kind of friendly and happy looking. And they waved at me when I was weeding."

'… _hrumph! ... kicked out of bed by a woman when I wasn't even there … life does go on doesn't it? 'Cosmos' will be fine for now … if for no other reason than Aunt Petunia doesn't like them and I don't like her … but think of the bright sparkly things in the night sky instead of the dead weeds okay? ...' _Wearing himself out with another enthusiastic tongue attack, the newly christened Cosmos rolled onto his back for a belly rub.

"I hope my parents will let me keep you," Harry wished as he gave Cosmos what he wanted.

'… _you? … keep __**ME?**__ ...'_ Cosmos was puzzled. Didn't the kid understand who he was? He was going to keep the boy - not the other way around. As far as he was concerned these 'parents' of his didn't have a choice in the matter.

"If they let me keep you, then I can play with you, and give you baths, and brush your fur, and throw you sticks, and you can walk me to school and back, and sleep by my bed, and eat my asparagus, and chase Dudley for me!"

'… _Dudley? ... do you mean that big mean blonde kid I saw sitting on you at lunch? ...'_

"That's Dudley right now," Harry said pointing at the ceiling above him from whence a loud 'POUND! POUND! POUND!' was emanating.

'… _hefty fellow isn't he? ...' _Cosmos thought, a low growl coming from his throat.

"Dudley is why I really really REALLY need a dog! But … but Daddy said 'no' ... well Mummy did too ... kind of, but only if Daddy did… and he did… so she did... so do you see?" he pleaded.

'… _what if I'm not 'available' to be your dog? ... I just might have plans of my own …' _Cosmos thought in a sudden pique. Really, didn't this boy know _he_ was the one being owned?

"If I can get Daddy to say yes, will you be my dog?" Harry asked looking woefully pitiful and dog-less. "I'll be really good to you. You'll like it here. I do."

'… _well … if you put it that way, I suppose could stick around ... for a little while that is … and is that steak I smell? ... I'm VERY hungry ... One of the rules of responsible dog ownership is that you got to feed 'em … LOTS and OFTEN … especially steak …' _the big dog licked his lips.

"I'll bet your hungry! I'll be right back! I didn't eat all my supper and there is some steak left over. But you better hide! Holly's crib is in here too so Mummy or Daddy might come in and they can't see you yet!" Harry headed for the door as Cosmos crawled under the bed.

… _(thump) …_ **POUND! POUND! POUND! POUND!** _… (thump) … (thump) … (thump) …_

"Can't you make them stop?" James put his fingers in his ears and complained loudly just as Harry cracked the door of his room open, to check and see if the coast was clear.

"It's your own fault. Vernon and Petunia aren't all that swift sometimes but they do know when they've been tricked. Now, they're just paying you back."

"But I gave them _exactly_ what they asked for," James snickered. "I rebuilt their house _with_ improvements. Put two brand new cars in the garage. Listed two vacation homes in their names, and of course the pièce_de résistance, quote … ____'all of their personal items restored exactly as they were before all that nasty business happened' __… unquote." _

_"That's not what they meant and you know it. It's your fault that ..."_

_"Ah-ah ... I know nothing of the kind," James denied holding up his hand to stop her. "Was it ____my__ fault, that the Insurance Investigators took offense to Dursley filing a claim on a destroyed house, and belonging that were obviously intact and unblemished? Was it ____my__ fault the investigators, then jumped to the conclusion that the insurance money bought the swimming pool and sauna and put escrow money down on the vacation homes? Was it ____my__ fault that the police thought it wrong for them to be storing stolen cars in their garage?" _

"No, maybe, and a definite yes. What you did could have gotten them arrested, and not just their house and possessions seized to repay the insurance company for fraud! You know what would have happened then."

"We might have gotten stuck with Dudley!" James said with a shudder. "It's a good thing that Remus convinced the police the neighbours mistakenly parked their cars in the wrong garage. If all those blasted houses didn't look identical, they probably wouldn't have believed him."

"It's a very good thing. I don't want to see my sister in jail. I can make her regret her actions much better than any muggle jail ever could, so you two had better stop your pranks on them! Besides what did it get you?" she asked shaking her finger at him.

"The larger flat," he said smugly. "We needed the larger one so Harry could have a bed," he pointed out practically.

"Great ... _but you didn't get the signatures!_ Wasn't_**that**_ the whole point of your prank?"

"We almost did … it wasn't our fault that the neighbours came back early and noticed their cars missing. If the police had come knocking even one minute later, we would have had it! Besides, we did get Petunia's, and Vernon had pen to paper. See?" he asked holding out the adoption papers and pointing to the signatures lines.

"All I see that your cleverness got you was a _'V'_ and if I don't see the _'ernon Dursley' _to go with it soon, the police will come knocking for you."

"But you owe me! Remember? A BIG ONE - for the dog! Can't you forgive me? Just a little?" he wheedled.

"Okay … deal. I forgive you for almost having my only sister thrown into jail, and for not getting Vernon's signature on the documents … _yet_. You have exactly one week. Get it done," she ordered crossing her arms determinedly and tapping her foot.

"But …"

"You asked me to forgive you 'just a little' so I am giving you _exactly_ what you asked for. I do forgive you 'just a little', and just for one week. Now I believe we're even again," Lily said even more smugly.

"But _one week_! Where are we supposed to come up with all the money he wants now, that fast? I mean the house and belongings were easy, we just restored those from the ashes with magic. The 'improvements' were just illusion and didn't cost a thing either."

"What do you mean they were just illusion? I saw a pool in their backyard. I know I did."

"Vernon wanted that just to show-off to his neighbours, not to use." James shrugged. "We decided that unless he did a swan dive into the deep end, he wouldn't bloody well figure out any time soon that the swimming pool was a transfigured birdbath, and the sauna was really an old shoebox we found in the neighbour's rubbish. Only we couldn't do everything by magic, we had to steal … um … let me rephrase that … _borrow_ the new cars. Then we put every cent Remus made teaching towards the escrow on the vacation homes. It did buy us two deeds with Vernon's name on them, but it was non-refundable deposit."

"It all sounds so complicated."

"But it should have worked! It was a great plan! If the Insurance Company hadn't seized them as well, it would have taken Vernon a couple of months to discover all he had was the paper to a couple of expensive mortgages. I spent everything we had on that plan - we're tapped out. We'd need a lot of luck to get any more money anytime soon. I'm working double shifts and never home as it is! Give me a little more time to figure it out, okay Rosie-posy?"

"It's not my deadline. I had tea with Petunia this afternoon. I didn't want to spoil Remus' party so I was waiting to talk to you in the morning, but now is as good a time as any." Lily took a deep breath and broke the bad news. "Vernon is only giving us one week, until the seventeenth, to come up with the money. After what you and your partner in crime tried to pull on him, he is NOT in the mood to negotiate. This time he wants it all in cash. Petunia says he going to take Harry away from us for good if we don't come up with it."

"Easy peasy, we just won't give him back. Problem solved. I mean - just what does Vernon think he's going to do to us if we don't?"

"Petunia said he'll have us arrested for kidnapping. If that happens, the only way we can clear ourselves is to reveal our identities to the authorities. If that happens, we'll be exposed in the Wizarding world too. And for some reason, I doubt if Vernon will lift a finger to keep the kids out of the hands of the Death Eaters. He's probably got them on speed dial by now."

James went pale as the news started to sink in, and Harry quietly closed the cracked open door and sat back down on his bed. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them in a hug and started to sob silently, until a furry head prodded his face off from his knees and started to lick up his salty tears.

"I'm sorry Cosmos. I'll get you the leftovers after they go to bed. I just don't want to go in there right now. Mummy and Daddy are upset."

'_What's wrong?' _the big dog whinged and put his head in the little boy's lap.

"Everything is wrong … No, not everything, that isn't right. It's mostly just me. I'm really expensive to have around."

'… _you are?' _Cosmos looked around the modest little room in wonder about that statement. It was tidy and pleasant, freshly painted in a creamy yellow with a bright green coverlet on the little bed, and a matching one on the baby's crib. There were a few books and crayons and a stuffed animal in the shape of a stag on the pillow, but it was by no means overflowing with clothes, pricey toys, or costly items.

"I was taking up too much room, so Daddy got this larger flat. I didn't really need my own bedroom, I tried to tell him that I didn't mind sleeping on the couch, but he wouldn't listen and now they can't afford it. If I can't find them some money and lots of it, I have to go back to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia." Harry started to tremble wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and added very softly, "… I don't want to go back. I don't want to leave Daddy and Mummy and Holly. And if … if I do, Aunt Petunia wouldn't let you come with me either."

The dog whined and pawed at his boy. He did not want him to go anywhere he didn't want to go, and then NOT anywhere without him! There may be many things he was a bit hazy on, but that was one fact of which he was certain. The big dog nudged Harry under the covers and settled him down in bed. Gripping the edge of the blanket with his mouth, he gently pulled it up under the boy's chin to tuck him in. His stomach was rumbling but he stayed put with his big head resting on his boy's chest until his quiet sobs turned into rhythmic breathing.

He was hungry again and needed something to eat, but the arguing voices of 'the parents' in the other room made him decide to dine out. He'd save the steak for a tasty midnight snack, he thought licking his lips.

Taking one more look around the little room, he pawed at the windowpane until he could nudge it the rest of the way open with his nose. It was hard not having opposable thumbs! Jumping through it easily, he landed on all four paws in the alley and looked backwards at the building. It loomed dark against the thunderclouds, which were luminous with afterglow of lightning.

'… _I'll be back soon …' _the dog promised as he disappeared into the gathering gloom.

"James, I …"

"Shush Lily … Harry's sleeping," James said poking his head in the room before carrying Holly in and tucking her into her crib.

"I was just trying to say I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. I wasn't being fair," Lily followed him in whispering.

"No, you weren't," James agreed, still sounding a little hurt.

"I was just frustrated with my sister and her husband. They're so greedy and I don't understand their attitude. Family should always come first - always."

"I do love you Rosie-posy," James said placing a lingering kiss on her lips. "Don't worry, we'll get through this. I was talking to Remus - he has an idea of how we might be able to make a withdrawal from Gringotts without letting anyone know we're alive just yet."

"How?"

"He has some old parchment and ink, nicely aged. I'm going to write a letter granting him access to our vaults, and date it back to October thirtieth of eighty-one, one day before everyone thinks we 'died'. Then he's going to use it make the withdrawal for us."

"Do you think it will work?" Lily asked dubiously. "Gringotts is notorious for what they do to people who take gold that isn't theirs. I don't want anything to happen to Remus."

"But that's the beauty of it. The letter will be truly genuine, except for the date. I think it'll work. At least it's worth a shot. We were going wait until the end of the month when the Ministry pays all their personnel thinking that if they were busy, there would be less of a chance they would inspect the letter too closely, but we'll just move it up to next week. The full moon is tomorrow night but as soon as Remus recovers and hears about Vernon's deadline, I'm sure he'll head right out for London."

"Oh James, and then Harry will be all ours again, truly ours."

"And we can tell Vernon where to shove his gold, and we'll head back home."

"Back home …" Lily said wistfully.

"Yes, my love - home."

"James?"

"Yes Lily?"

"Where _is_ home? We've never discussed that. Remus said our cottage in Godric's Hollow was destroyed, and I don't think I could go back there anyway."

"My home is wherever you and Harry and Holly are."

"… and Remus?"

"And Remus."

"… and Sirius?"

"If wishes were animagi ..." James held her tight as he started swaying and humming in her ear. He loved Lily so much he didn't have words to express it. Not only did she make his life complete, but she was willing to make room in their family for his de-facto brothers. It was not just any woman who would willingly do that.

As the lightning lent its bright glow to the little bedroom, they shared a dance to the gentle cadence of the breathing of their peacefully dreaming children - children who were dreaming of puppies. In Harry's dreams, the puppy was a big mangy black one. In Holly's it looked suspiciously like her favourite teething toy - her daddy's wand. Both children sighed happily in their sleep as the dance came to an end and with a kiss to each of their foreheads, their parents slipped out of the room.

One floor up Dudley was not in his bed. He had the only bedroom in the first floor flat, while his parents slept on a pullout sofa bed in the living room. 'It just wasn't fair!' he thought. This room was so dinky! It was much smaller than the one he had downstairs, and that one was even smaller than his room on Privet Drive. Not to mention that on Privet Drive he had _two_ rooms, and here he had only one. Auntie Lily really should have let them at least have the ground floor flat back! Life was not being fair to Dudley Dursley.

This time before they lost their house, Dudley rescued several of his video games along with his BB gun. While the Insurance Investigators had been yelling at his parents downstairs he had been upstairs shoving his pockets full of everything he could. He had even done his best to heft his portable telly under one arm, and his bulky computer under the other. He had almost made it waddling out of the house with his load, before they took his stuff away from him for 'evidence'. They let him keep the games since they had been opened, and couldn't be returned to the store for a refund. But what good were video games without the computer to play them on?

Sitting at the window of his dinky room, with nothing to do but write a stupid essay or go to bed, he watched the alley below him and pretended to be a big game hunter. His dad said that someday he would take him on a safari. Through the rain, which had started to pour with earnest, he watched with interest as a large dark shadow slunk closer with each intermittent flash of lightning, closer and closer, towards where his downstairs bedroom window used to be.

Taking sight down the barrel, he aimed and squeezed the trigger. A clap of thunder eclipsed the little 'pop', but Dudley grinned as the shadow slumped to the ground. He was becoming a fine shot, if he did say so himself. That was about the only thing he did like about the upstairs flat - it had a much better vantage spot for his target practice. Auntie Lily should be happy he protected them. Maybe she would be so happy she'd let them have their ground floor flat back. He should ask her, he thought as he climbed into bed. It wouldn't hurt, and he might at least get breakfast out of it if nothing else.

Sunday morning dawned fresh and clear and the first thing on Harry's mind was his dog. 'His dog' - it had a nice ring to it. He would have to make him a collar and a tag so no one would mistake him for a stray. He should also get him a cushion to sleep on, and a squeaky toy to play with, and a big bone to chew on, and a dog dish for his food, and a bowl for water, and….

"… and I forgot to feed him! I promised him steak and I fell asleep!" Harry dropped upside down over the edge of his bed and peeked under it. No dog - not even a dust bunny! He'd lost him already! Maybe his aunt was right - maybe he wasn't responsible enough to own a dog. Hurriedly jumping up and getting dressed, he pulled a comb through his hair a couple of times before giving up the fight. He then shoved on his trainers, picked up a gurgling Holly, and went out to the kitchen where his mummy was already building up a nice stack of golden hotcakes.

"Watch this!" she called out as he came in just in time to see the next one sail through the air and land on the floor, missing the plate entirely. "Well … I can do it when no one is watching." She ruefully picked up the foiled attempt and dropped it in the dustbin.

"If I had a dog he could clean that up for you," Harry sensibly pointed out.

"Nice try sweetie," Lily laughed putting the stack in front of him and ruffling his hair. She was determined that nothing was going to spoil her good mood …

**Dinnnng****!****– Doooong!**

"I see you Auntie Lily!" Dudley's voice floated in the keyhole. "May I come for brekki?"

… nothing, except for that.

"No Dudley, you may not. Your breakfast is upstairs. I am not pleased with your behaviour," Lily answered through the closed door. She wanted to develop a relationship with her nephew, but really - blackmailing her son! She was NOT going to reward that, or forget it, anytime soon.

"But Auntie! I wanted to tell you something - something important!" Dudley whinged.

"So tell me," Lily called back, still not opening the door.

"I protected you!" This was not working out the way he had planned.

"And just how did you do that?" she asked suspiciously.

"I shot a prowler in the alley last night with my BB gun."

"YOU DID WHAT!" Lily screamed and opened the door to see Dudley standing there holding his BB gun and beaming proudly from ear to ear.

"I sh-shot a prowler in the al-alley?" Dudley stuttered, wilting under his aunt's glare.

"Hrumph!" Lily snatched the weapon out of his hands, and slammed the door in his face. **"GO. HOME. NOW!"**

Well that was unexpected. Dudley thought angrily as he stomped back upstairs to his own flat, where his plate of burned bacon and singed French toast awaited him. It just wasn't fair! Why did everyone always pick on him?

"James!" Lily yelled out. "Come quick! Dudley has done something!"

"What's the little - _… (ahem) …_ - done now?" He was already frowning at the tone of urgency in Lily's voice as he towelled off his messy black hair still damp from the shower.

"He said he shot something in the alley last night. You don't think …" Lily paled.

"My Gods! Remus! Harry stay with Holly!" James yelled over his shoulder as he took off out the front door with Lily close on his heels.

Rounding the corner to the alley, he stopped short at a dark stain still visible in the rough gravel. Squatting down he put a finger in the sticky pool then raised it to his nose and sniffed. "He got something all right. Its blood, but the rain has washed away most of it, hard to tell how much there was. It could have just been a flesh wound … or not …"

Springing up, he started pounding on the door to the basement flat while Lily thoroughly searched the alley for the injured person or beast. Lily was relieved not to find a dead body, though she had steeled herself in case she did. James was relieved to hear a healthy growl in response to his ruckus. Remus was still safely sealed in his cement cell. It wasn't his blood.

"It must have been a stray cat." James was happy that at least it wasn't his friend, but sad that any creature was out there somewhere in pain because of his thoughtless nephew.

"It must not have been too bad a wound, or it would still be here somewhere," Lily commented as they walked back around and entered their flat. "Still, it shouldn't have happened at all."

"I've got to go to work now," James said kissing her goodbye. "Do try to have a nice day, despite how it started out, okay?" Seeing the dangerous sparks in her green eyes, he knew he wouldn't want to be Dudley today.

"I'll try … by the way you'll have to pick up something at the Grocery for lunch, the steak leftovers, as well as the rest of the bologna, is gone."

"Oh well, I did borrow all the money Remus had ..." James shrugged good-naturedly. "… so if he wants to raid my icebox every night - he can. Besides, I don't think I'd want to argue with him over a bit a meat at this time of the month anyway. He can get a might cranky." James cracked a smile at the understatement as he waved goodbye and started trotting down the pavement towards work.

Lily sighed as she watched him go. This was going to be a long week. She just hoped that James and Remus' latest plot would work, and she could hold her temper long enough for them to get the rest of Vernon's signature. That was all that mattered right now. She would have to address the issue of Dudley's outrageous behaviour later. She couldn't risk angering her sister and brother-in-law any more than they already were.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked curiously, looking up from the table where he was playing airplane-and-hanger with the spoon while he fed Holly her favourite mashed bananas. His eyes grew round at the sight of his mummy carrying Dudley's BB gun and looking grim.

"Promise me that you'll never thoughtlessly hurt another living being just for the pleasure of it," Lily demanded as she transfigured the BB gun into a non-lethal water pistol.

"I promise," Harry vowed with all sincerity. He couldn't imagine ever doing it anyway and wondered what he had done to make his mummy think he would. It was probably Dudley's fault, his eyes narrowing crossly at the thought. Leave it to his cousin to get him into trouble without even being here. But then, Dudley was good at that - he'd had lots of practice.

"Good. Enough said. Now eat your breakfast." Still bristling at what her nephew had done, she absentmindedly placed an empty plate before him and scraped his hotcakes into the dustbin.

'_At least I have orange juice,' _Harry thought uncomplainingly as he started to reach for the glass, only to have his mummy sweep it up with the rest of the dishes on the table. She started to wash it with a vengeance while she muttered under her breath about spoiled rotten undeserving children, who were a menace to society, and who had better stay out of her way if they knew what was good for them.

"I'm going to my room now …" Harry decided to error on the side of discretion. It was better to go to his room voluntarily now, rather than wait until she banished him to it in punishment for whatever it was Dudley had done.

That was the normal course of events for his life up to now. Dudley misbehaved - Harry took the blame for it. Dudley was rewarded - Harry was punished by being locked up in his cupboard. So far, everything was right on course. He'd been waiting for months for his parents to start behaving normally towards him like his aunt and uncle had, and it was finally starting.

"That's good." Lily replied without really listening, so she missed the wistful tone. "I have to go out later and return Dudley's gun, but I'll take Holly with me. Make sure you don't leave the flat, and keep the doors locked."

"Yes'm." He took one last longing look at his mummy as he quietly closed the door. At least it was bigger than his cupboard, and it had a window he thought as he closed the pane before he went to sit dejectedly on his bed. It wasn't very many minutes before a wet nose pressed it's way past his doldrums and two big soulful eyes looked up at him as if to ask _'… what's wrong?... maybe you would feel better if you scratched me? ... that always makes me feel better...'_

"You're back! And you're okay!" Harry threw his arms around the big dog's neck sobbing little hiccuppy sobs. "I thought you'd left me, or maybe Dudley had shot you!"

'… _leave you? ... never! ... what kind of good boy-owner would I be if I did that? ... don't cry! ... I was here most of the night… I just had to go out this morning for a bit to… um … do my 'business'...' _Cosmos thought embarrassedly as he bathed all the tears off his boy's face with his wet tongue. _'... now to find out what is bothering him and to make it right ...'_

"I thought for a minute my wish really hadn't come true."

'… _wish? ...'_

Harry laughed at the comical look on the dog's face. "I made a wish last night on my uncle's birthday candle. He said he'd had enough birthday wishes, and I hadn't had any so far - so he let me have his. I wasn't sure it would work, as it wasn't really my birthday, but I wished anyway. I wished for you and you came - so birthday candle wishes _are _lucky. Except Daddy says I can only have a dog if I find one that can talk, so I should have wished for that too, but I didn't, so I probably can't keep you," he finished in one breath and a jumble of words.

'… _hm … this is a promising start … if my boy believes in luck, and wishes, then maybe he believes in magic too … maybe the muggles haven't done such a horrible job as I thought … and my boy wants me to talk … so I need to transfigure back into a human … but how without scaring him? ... I know! ... What he needs is another wish … and I've got just the thing!'_

Cosmos jumped off the bed, and crawling on his belly, he slid back under the little bed, this time coming forth with the remnants of his late night snack - chicken bones. Nosing through the refuse, he separated the wishbone and taking one end in his mouth, he presented the other end to his boy.

"You want me to make another wish, so you can talk and I can keep you?" Harry looked at the dog with new eyes. Last night his uncle mentioned that if you made a wish while breaking a wishbone that it could be lucky if you got the larger half, just like a birthday candle wish was lucky if you blew it out on the first try. But… how did the dog know?

The big mangy dog nodded its head, and with a hopeful look on his face, offered the end of the wishbone again.

"I wish - I wish you could talk so Daddy will let me keep you," Harry wished fervently and scrunched his eyes tight as he pulled on the wishbone until he felt it snap in two. Opening them wide he found only a short stub in his hand. "It didn't work… I got the little half…" he said dully, but any further words stuck in his throat as a long thin hand with dirty ragged fingernails, reached out and dropped the larger half into his palm alongside its mate.

"But I wished for it too… so I could keep you," Cosmos replied gently as he squatted down to the boy's eye level. His eyes were the same - grey, kind, and fathomless pools of emotion. Only now, they were begging for acceptance and understanding, instead of food and a belly rub.

"Cosmos? Is that really you?" Harry breathed with awe.

The man with the long black scraggly hair nodded 'yes' and Harry practically knocked him over when he threw his arms around the man's neck in a happy hug. Cosmos responded by hugging Harry back so hard, that the boy could barely breathe and he broke away frightened.

"You _are_ a dog… right?" Harry said suddenly doubtful, pushing him away to arms length.

"Sometimes," the man shrugged. He was a little hurt he'd obviously scared the boy by hugging him back, although he shouldn't have expected any differently in his current unwashed condition. Being realistic, he should be more surprised that he hadn't already run screaming from the room to get away from him. "I am whenever I want to be. And for the last eight years I have wanted to be one most of the time."

"Can you be one right now?" Harry asked unconvinced.

"Sure," he said transfigured back into his shaggy canine form and started gently licking Harry's face again, and then more enthusiastically until he knocked him down to the rug.

Giggling, a very relieved Harry sat up and hugged the mangy beast again. "I was worried there for a minute. I thought maybe you weren't really a dog after all and it was a trick. Then Mummy would have really said there wasn't room for you and made you leave. If there isn't room for a dog, there really isn't room for a boogey-man, even a nice one."

Changing back into a man, Cosmos cracked the window open before sitting down by the little boy's side with one arm slung companionably across his shoulders, but being cautious not to scare him again. "I guess I do kind of look like a boogey-man," he admitted ruefully.

"A little… but I'm not scared now that I know you are really a dog," Harry said sincerely.

Cosmos had been observing Harry for almost five days steady now, stealthily watching from underneath bushes and from around corners until he was positive he had found the right child - his godchild. The child, that for the past eight years, he thought he had failed. The child, who was oblivious to the danger he was in. The child, for whom he had broken out of prison, and swum across a raging sea to protect with his life if need be. Now that he found him, nobody was going to make him leave him again, he thought fiercely. If he had to steal him from these unreasonable muggles who took him in, to do it, he would.

When he had followed him home from school, he noticed that while most of the other children had a mother or father pick them up, Harry never did. Harry always walked by himself (or more usually chased by that fat bully) to the rundown building where he lived in the ground floor flat. After the boy got home, Cosmos never saw him come back out and go to the play park as his cousin did, or even go to the little corner market. Cosmos had never even seen Harry outside at all, except for going to and from school.

These 'parents' of his seemed to keep him locked away tight. They probably made him slave away at chores, and never let him play at all, the dirty rotten sots! Even at lunchtime, he never played with the other kids, except for being their target, and that couldn't be much fun. Cosmos didn't know why his little godson was so lonely and friendless, but if any boy needed a dog, his did, especially a dog that was also a wizard and could protect him, unlike these neglectful selfish muggles who were raising him.

Cosmos was the most puzzled as to why his godchild was separated from the Wizarding world, and why muggles were raising him, instead of James and Lily. And where was Remus while all this was going on? He told Remus where to find them… at least he think he did. He couldn't really remember that night that clearly anymore... not after the dementors messed with his mind.

He did remember leaving James and Lily in care of doctors. Surely, in eight years Remus would have found them anyway, and told them that their son was alive. However, what if… what if James and Lily hadn't pulled through after all? Maybe their injuries were graver than the doctors had thought. Merlin! He had never considered that! Maybe he made it worse by moving them! If they died because of it, than it would have been his fault. No wonder Remus left him in Azkaban. He probably blamed him for their deaths along with the rest of the Wizarding world. Ironic if true - falsely accused of betraying them and getting them killed, but guilty of their deaths anyway because of his Good Samaritan acts. Perhaps he did deserve to rot for all eternity in Azkaban.

The torn bit of the newspaper that had smuggled into his prison cell along with the gruel hadn't exactly been elaborate with details, but he knew the situation wasn't safe for Harry. Death Eaters had attacked the muggle relatives that he had been reported to have been living with for the last eight years. According to the news report, Harry has been missing from the house at the time of the attack. The ministry to their shame had to admit to having lost track of him. No one, on either side, admitted to knowing his current location. However, there was a lot of speculation that the Death Eaters had kidnapped him during the raid and was secretly holding him in case the Dark Lord returned.

Cosmos hadn't believed the article. Harry had survived the first attack by Lord Voldemort himself. Surely, he had survived the second one of mere Death Eaters too! Cosmos was positive the speculation couldn't possibly be true. If it had been, almost the entire population of Azkaban would have been celebrating, and they weren't. They were as much in the dark as to what had happened to the 'boy-who-lived' as the Ministry was. However, Cosmos knew with his boy in mortal danger he had to take the chance and try to escape. He had to find him. He had to protect him. With James and Lily dead … and they must be if Harry wasn't with them … and with Remus having deserted him, Harry was all he had left of his family. These muggles couldn't protect him. They obviously didn't know about the evil that was lurking on their doorstep. Even if they did know, they wouldn't be a match for it. That left it up to him.

Cosmos leaned back against the desk, looking speculatively at his boy. "Is that the only reason your parents won't let you have a dog - because they take up too much room?"

"Yes… mostly…" Harry hedged, not really wanting to admit to his new friend that his irresponsibility was the main cause, but knowing he would have to, if he wanted his help. Seeing Cosmos' raised eyebrows he sighed and explained further. "My aunt and uncle, the ones that I used to live with, they said I wasn't responsible enough to take care of a dog because they got one for Dudley and it ran away. Mummy and Daddy did say that maybe they would get me a pet, but not a dog. And a dog is what I really really really really REALLY NEED. Not just some stupid old cat!"

"Can't blame you there, dogs are the superior species."

"Then Daddy said I could have one, but only if I found one that could talk… but Mummy said that he was just teasing because dogs can't talk, so that was just a way for him to say 'no' without really saying 'no'. So… if dogs can't talk…why can you?"

"Um… good question… maybe it was because we both wished it at the same time? Kind of a double lucky wish whammy?"

Cosmos was being cautious. He didn't know how much Harry actually knew of the Wizarding world - apparently just enough not to be too frightened of his transfiguration, but not enough to recognize him as being an animagus. He was thankful that at least his aunt and uncle hadn't kept him completely in the dark about his parent's world. It would make his job a little easier.

"I know! Maybe…" Harry look excited as the wheels in his brain began to turn, "…maybe if you could help me show them I'm responsible, they would let me keep you!"

"How do you intend to do that?"

"Do you think there is such a thing as luck?"

"Of course. I'm here, aren't I? Since I am, it's proof that there must be such a thing. But what does that have to do with showing your parents you're responsible?"

"Daddy is looking for luck. If you help me find it for him, he will see that I am responsible, and then he will say yes."

"Sounds like fun. I'm in." Cosmos stood up and conspiratorially held out his hand. "I'll help you find some luck and get your daddy to say 'yes' to you having a dog, if you help me in return."

"It's a deal!" Harry said enthusiastically jumping up and pumping his hand to seal their bargain, unconcerned about what his half of the bargain might entail. "Oh! I know your name, but you don't know mine… I'm Harry - Harry Krueger."

"Harry…'_Krueger'_?" Cosmos asked with curiosity. Something about that sounded familiar in the mired muck that passed for his memories after the dementors had gotten through scrambling them, but he couldn't quite place it. The 'Harry' was definitely right however.

"You said that just like my teacher does. YES it is 'Krueger', Daddy and Mummy are going to adopt me - at least I think they are - and their name is Krueger, so I'm going to be Harry Krueger." He said with his hands on his hips a bit exasperated.

"Okay! Okay! Harry Krueger it is, without the verbal quotes." His boy seemed fiercely loyal to these muggle parents.

"Good!" Harry admonished.

"So Mister Harry Krueger Sir, who's this 'uncle' you mentioned? Not the father of the baby elephant upstairs is he?"

"Oh NO! That's my _old_ uncle up there, the one I used to live with - Uncle Vernon." Harry said pulling a face, "My new uncle is a lot more fun!"

"Ah… and where might this new 'fun' uncle be now?" Cosmos asked a little jealous over how Harry lit up when he mentioned him.

"He had to go to bed."

"Why? Is he ill?"

"Kind of, he eats too many pies. If he eats an entire one he gets ill and goes to bed."

"Overindulges huh? So where's this bed located that he goes to?"

"Down there," Harry said pointing at the floor in the direction of the high-pitched whirr of a drill. "He's putting on more locks. He says you can never be too safe when you're sleeping."

"He sounds a bit paranoid. Now me, I prefer absolutely no locks at all. I even like the window open." Cosmos leaned over and nudged the pane up further up until it was wide open and he could feel the breeze. "Ah! Much better. Say … how about you start making good on your end of the deal and doing something for me?"

"Like what?"

"I'm in desperate need of a shower and something to eat. You do know that being responsible for a dog means you have to feed them … and often." Cosmos said looking sideways at Harry. Noticing the wheels starting to turn in his little head he thought he should clarify, "we dogs really do prefer… _(ahem)_… 'people food', and we also prefer to wash ourselves." Harry was quite relieved at this news. He wasn't sure how he would come up with any money to buy dog food, and he was embarrassed at the thought of giving Cosmos a bath when he looked more like his daddy than a dog. But if it meant having a dog of his own, he had been willing to give it a try.

"So… um… I think I heard your mummy leave the flat a few minutes ago. You see if the coast is clear, and I'll just pop into the shower..." Cosmos smiled engagingly at the thought of being clean and well shaven for the first time in eight years. Ooo the hot water was calling him!

"Okay," Harry agreed and went to check out the rest of the flat. Coming back to the door, he told Cosmos they were the only ones there, but he didn't know for how long. Not wasting a second, Cosmos jumped in the shower and turned the water on full blast, melting under the soothing pulse of the warm water. It was pure bliss… Aahhhhh!

"C'mon! C'mon!" Harry urged Cosmos to hurry as he was later rifling through the bureau in Harry's parent's room, in search of something better than his rags to wear. Finally grabbing some underwear, a pair of black muggle jeans, and a colourful knit jumper that he found wrapped in a box in the bottom drawer, he threw them on then tossed his rags in the fireplace and burned them. The clothes would have fit well enough if he hadn't had been so thin, as it was they hung on his gaunt form. Oh well - at least they were in one piece, he thought as he searched the flat for men's shoes. The only ones he found were several sizes longer than his feet. If he only had his wand he could shrink them, but since he didn't he would just have to keep going barefoot.

"C'mon now! Pleeeeasssse?" Harry pleaded with his uncooperative dog.

It was getting late and he didn't want to get into trouble. He was sure his mummy would be back soon. As he mistakenly thought she was punishing him, he figured it wouldn't do at all to have her catch him out of his room. If she did, she might not let him have supper. She had already taken his breakfast away, and he'd fed his lunch to Cosmos. He didn't want to miss out on supper too. They were having spaghetti!

He was greatly relieved when Cosmos finally put his plate and mug in the sink and followed him obediently back to his room, not realizing when his mummy got home and saw the dirty dishes, she would assume that he had had his lunch already.

"You better hide again. I have to finish my homework before supper, so I can't play anymore today anyway." Harry directed sternly as he sat down at the desk and started diligently to construct his essay, armed with all the data he had gotten from his parents and uncle, and well as the colourful stories that Cosmos had added to his arsenal during their afternoon together.

Cosmos nodded and transfigured into his dog form before crawling under the bed. He had spent a lot longer in the shower than he had intended to but it had felt so good he didn't want to get out. He had borrowed a toothbrush, trimmed his ragged nails, and had managed to shave off his scraggily beard with a muggle shaver. That had also taken longer than he expected as it took him a while to figure out how to plug it in and turn it on. While he was taking care of his grooming, Harry had been busy preparing him a huge pile of sandwiches, which he practically inhaled. He felt clean and full, with minty fresh breath. Now all he wanted to do was take a nice long nap. Rolling onto his back, Cosmos wagged his tail. He'd covered the bottom of Harry's bed above him with the smoothed out dog doodles. Cosmos stretched lazily and curled up with a contented sigh. Harry might not realize it yet, but he hadn't forgotten his dear old godfather.

Monday morning dawned gloriously clear. The day was bright and the air was so crisp it carried sound for kilometres. Harry woke up and hopped out of bed with a grin. He had a Daddy! He had a Mummy! He had a baby sister! He had a nice uncle! He had a bed! And now he HAD A DOG! And… dropping down on all fours, he peered under the bunk…. YES! He was still there! He had tomato sauce all over his furry face, but at least the face was there.

Harry got dressed, gathered up Holly, and fairly danced with her out to the kitchen where his mummy was stirring a nice pot of hot steaming porridge.

"Porridge? Yuck."

"It's for your father, if he's not careful he's going to get fat." Lily said setting a bowl of it in front of James who silently echoed his son's comment of 'Yuck'.

"What do you mean? I'm not fat!" James denied poking at the raisins liberally dotting the surface. "They look like dead flies in goo."

"Shut it and eat," she replied good-naturedly. "You know as well as I do that if you keep up with those midnight snacks you'll be as big as Vernon in no time."

"I never! Besides I thought we decided it was Remus."

"It was the full moon last night so I highly doubt he was up here for a snack or we would have noticed more than the leftover spaghetti gone."

"Was it you?" James asked his son who was wolfing down the scrambled eggs and bacon he would have preferred. "By the way champ, I think it's a tad early for you to be worrying about shaving. Best leave my razor alone for another year or two, okay?"

"It wasn't me, Daddy." Harry piped up, but with a guilty look on his face that attested otherwise. Cosmos did have a lot of tomato sauce on his nicely trimmed muzzle…

"Hrumph!" James snorted. He was a bit sceptical at the denial but decided not to pursue it further. His razor didn't matter, other than he wanted to be the one to show Harry how to shave, and the food didn't matter, as Harry was way too thin. He just wished it didn't mean he had to eat porridge. "Did you get your essay finished?"

"Oh yes. It's all done." Harry replied trying not to talk with his mouth full. That was another stupid rule of adults. Why were they always saying not to do that, and then wait until you take a bite to ask you a question?

"Well hurry up then, I'm going to take you to school on my way to work."

"That's okay Daddy. I can walk myself," Harry replied thinking about Cosmos and trying to act casual. "Or I can wait for Dudley," he offered not intending to follow through on it.

"Oh no you can't, after the stunt your cousin pulled this weekend, I'm not about to trust him anywhere around you without a chaperone. So grab your book bag, I'm walking both of you to school, and we need to get going." James swatted Harry playfully on the behind as he dashed back to his room and grabbed his bag.

Dropping down on all fours, he rubbed Cosmos' belly causing him to yawn widely and stretch his out his hind legs. "You better stay under here today. Daddy is talking me to school but Mummy is home so be quiet!" he said holding a finger to his lips.

Cosmos nodded his head and went back to sleep. He could get used to this fast - a dry place to sleep, belly rubs, and an icebox full of food.

Dudley stomped to school two steps ahead of his uncle and gave him the silent treatment the entire way. He was embarrassed thinking his friends might see him being escorted to school like a baby. Conversely, Harry held James' hand without reservation. If he couldn't have a dog walk him to school, his daddy was the next best thing. Skipping alongside James, he thought about his dog with a happy heart. He would have to start making him that collar and a tag!

"You're sure in a good mood today," James observed.

"Yep!" Harry grinned up at him.

"So what's up?"

"I just think my teacher is really going to like my essay," Harry covered smoothly.

"All this happiness is over homework?" James looked at his son unbelievingly but just got a noncommittal shrug in return. "Okay then have a good day, and knock 'em dead with your essay," he said stopping at the corner of the playground. "You too Dudley - have a good day."

"Sure," was Dudley's one word surly reply as he stomped away to join his friends.

Harry followed him into class with a lot more confidence than he had the week before. It was amazing what owning a dog can do for a boy. The class had just settled into their seats when Mr. Nathraichean limped through the door, looking exceeding sour. His gaze swept the room looking for a likely victim for his bad mood and settled on Harry. Under the unyielding glare, Harry's confidence fizzled like a leaky balloon.

"Essays - pass them forward," he demanded quietly. "Ah Mister…_'Krueger',_" he sneered plucking Harry's out of the pile and holding up by the corner as if it were contaminated. "I see you managed to spell your name correctly. Had trouble though, did you?" he remarked with a question in his voice noticing the erasures.

The class giggled.

Harry blushed.

"Shall we see if the rest measures up any better?"

The class snickered, they were glad he hadn't singled out one of theirs.

Harry shrunk in his seat and wished there was somewhere he could hide.

Mr. Nathraichean whipped out a ruler and held it up to the paper. "You are short three inches … Mister…_'Kruger'._ When I said one foot, I meant twelve full inches of meaningful content. That precludes spacing and margins," he remarked slowly as if talking to an imbecile.

The class squirmed. They hoped he didn't measure theirs!

Harry slid down in his seat and scowled. It was early and the day was already circling the drain.

"Now that we have established the basic parameters, shall we see if we can eliminate any of the residual length owing to unfortunate scholastics?" he asked no one in particular.

The class perked up, this might be fun after all!

Harry could have kicked himself. He knew he should have written it in cursive!

Mr. Nathraichean cleared his throat and started to read…

_Saint Patricks Day by Harry Krueger_

_Saint Patricks day is an Irish holiday in honour of Saint Patrick. Only Saint Patricks name wasn__'__t really Patrick and he wasn__'__t really Irish. But he did have a day named after him. His name was Maewyn Succat and he was born in Scotland or Wales not in Ireland at all. Anyway wherever it was, it was a long time ago. _

_Then some Irish marauders__…_

Mr. Nathraichean paused, with a pained expression on his face before continuing.

…_kidnapped him but he couldn__'__t pay the ransome. But he got lucky and instead of killing him they made him tend their sheep. Then he got lucky again and escaped and became a monk. When he was a monk the bishop said __'__Maewyn you are a noble man so I proclaim your monk name will be Patrick which means __'__noble__'__. _

_One day some Norsemen came to invade Ireland and they were hungry because they were busy invading. So they looked for some toads or snakes to make soup and couldn__'__t find any so they asked Maewyn where they were and he said __'__My name is now Patrick and there are not any toads and snakes here__'__. The Norsemen said __'__Oh__'__ and since they didn__'__t speek gaelic they thought he said his name was __'__Paudrid__'__ which in their language meant __'__expeller of toads__'__ so they decided he must be a powerful wizard and got rid of them by magic so they didn__'__t kill him. _

_If he hadn__'__t been kidnapped by Irish marauders and gone to Ireland and then escaped and then became a monk and then changed his name to Patrick and then been mistaken by invading Norsemen for a wizard he wouldn__'__t have had a day named after him. But he did, and that__'__s why Saint Patricks Day is lucky._

_Today there are more Irish people in America than anywhere else and they do all sorts fun things to celebrate like marching in parads, dying the Chicago River green, eating lots of corned beef and cabbage, and drinking green beer, and the __'__wearing of the green__'__. What that means is that on Saint Patricks day in America everyone is supposed to wear green even if there not Irish and if you see someone who is not wearing green you are supposed to pinch them__…_

All the little girls in the class without a speck of green on gasped and pulled in their elbows. All the little boys snickered and made plans.

…_but if you see someone who is wearing green you are supposed to kiss them instead._

All the little girls in the class blushed and giggled. One little girl found a green coloured marker in her desk and hurriedly painted her fingernails, and then passed it on to the next little girl to do the same. All the little boys gasped and went decidedly pale.

_I think it would be fun to see a river died green, and to march in a parad, and my mummy nit me a green jumper to where today but she already kissed me so I__'__m good. The falicy of Saint Patricks day is that I am too young to drink beer._

"Your penmanship is atrocious, however I do congratulate your attempt to incorporate the word 'fallacy' into the text, albeit incorrectly spelled and used," his teacher observed with a slight sneer. "For your erudition the word 'fallacy' is a noun meaning deceptive or false in appearance, in particular as it pertains to flawed logic and incorrect reasoning."

"So Sir … if something _looks_ like one thing but it's _really_ something else that's when it's a fallacy?" Harry asked, wondering if that was what Cosmos was… a fallacy.

"As it pertains to logic – and names - that is so," Mr. Nathraichean responded warming to the subject. "Take your statement, 'The fallacy of Saint Patrick's Day is that you are too young to drink beer'. While you may disagree with the reasoning that age should be a factor in deciding whether it is right or wrong for you to drink alcohol, it is not a fallacy of either logic, or of Saint Patrick's Day itself. Instead, it is just an indication that you desire things that are not good for you. While the real fallacy in your essay is the statement that Saint Patrick's Day is lucky because Maewyn Succat changed his name to Patrick."

"But he did!" Harry protested.

Mr. Nathraichean glared.

"Oops! Sorry… but he did…_Sir_."

"Be that as it may … Mister…_'Krueger' - _there is still no such thing as 'luck'. Therefore saying something is 'lucky' is by definition a fallacy. Consequently, the last inch of your essay is disqualified. Shall we say one more for your lack of neatness, and one additional for your appalling spelling? You owe me six."

Harry crossed his arms in front of him, his eyebrows pulled into a frown. It was true he had thrown in that last sentence as an afterthought, but at least he had remembered the essay was supposed to be about the 'fallacies' of Saint Patrick's Day - not just about Saint Patrick. But fine … he'd concede to that. However, Mr. Nathraichean just had to be wrong about the rest!

His daddy, _and_ his mummy, _and _his Uncle Remmy, _and _Cosmos - they_ all_ said that there _was_ such a thing as luck! Just because they just didn't have any right now, didn't mean it didn't exist. It was just like money, they didn't have any of that either, but it certainly did exist because Uncle Vernon wanted it. And he didn't believe in anything that wasn't real, and he couldn't see.

"Or maybe…_ 'Sir'…_"he could use implied verbal air quotes too, Harry thought irritably, "... if luck _is_ real, then saying there is no such thing… is the fallacy."

Mr. Nathraichean scowled. Was he truly reduced to mental sparing with a nine-year-old? He felt a headache coming on and his leg was throbbing. It was time to nip this in the bud.

"There will be no further discussion on the topic. I am correct…" and as Harry opened his mouth to protest he added, "…because I am the teacher. Close your mouth or you will owe me seven."

Harry shut his mouth.

Dudley sniggered – a little too loudly.

"Thank you for reminding me Mister Dursley… you owe me ten," Mr. Nathraichean announced in his silky voice as he towered over the blonde boy. The tone made Dudley cower in his seat.

"But- but- but that's even more than Harry! Whatever you think I did – I didn't do it. Besides, it was it was all Harry's fault!" Dudley pouted.

"Indeed. However, in this occurrence is more of a matter of what you failed to do - in particular your failure to use common sense and restraint. You now owe me eleven. Do you care to try for twelve? Hm? Anyone else? No?"

Dudley shut his mouth, as did the rest of the class, for the rest of the day - much to Mr. Nathraichean's immense satisfaction.

"So how did it go sweetie?" Lily asked that afternoon as Harry drug through the door and flopped, face down, over the footstool and started groaning.

"…mmmgregmph!" came the muffled reply.

"Come sit by me," Lily invited, pulling him off the footstool. "Now what went wrong? Was it Dudley? Are your glasses broken again?"

"No… Dudley stayed away all day, except when we walked home and this time we actually walked - he wasn't nice but he didn't chase me either. I think he wants you to turn his BB gun back as it was," Harry surmised shrewdly. "The water pistol leaks."

"He can want all he wants to – it's not going to happen," she laughed. "So if it wasn't Dudley picking on you - why the glum face?"

"It's my teacher… he hates me."

"Hate is a pretty strong word. Why do you think that?"

"I have to write more essay," he groaned.

"What did he say was wrong with the one you did last weekend?"

"He said it wasn't long enough. He said you can count spacing and margins, and then he deducted for… for 'unfortunate scholastics'."

Lily laughed at how put out Harry sounded. She remembered back in her Hogwarts days that her old friend Sev used to say the same thing when they worked on homework together. He had been his own worst critic on his assignments, grading them before the professors even had a chance to look at them. "Did you do your best? I know you worked on it most of Sunday."

"Yes I did… kind of… okay not really..." Harry admitted reluctantly. He had been having so much fun with Cosmos that he really hadn't spent _that _much time on it. He also hadn't used the dictionary to look up the words of which he wasn't sure.

"Then don't you agree with your teacher, that perhaps you _should_ do it over?"

"I guess I better go get started…" Harry dragged his feet towards his bedroom, and then remembering what awaited him, hopped happily the rest of the way instead. Closing his door behind him, he whispered for Cosmos, "Hey boy! Where...?"

Before he could finish calling for him, a very lonely dog wantonly attacked him.

'… _you were gone all day! ... lick! ... I woke up and you were gone! ... lick! ... so I took another nap … lick! ... and you were still gone! ... but now you're back! ... lick! lick! lick! ...'_

Giggling from all the attention, Harry tumbled on the floor with Cosmos, wrestling until they both fell into an exhausted heap of arms, hands, legs, feet, and paws. "I'm sorry, but I can't play today…" Harry apologized between pants. "I have to rewrite my essay on Saint Patrick's Day. My teacher didn't like the first one."

"Why? What was wrong with it?" Cosmos asked after transfiguring back into a man and sitting cross-legged on the rug. "Didn't you put in the part about the marauders? That was real good!"

Harry nodded. "He didn't say anything about that part, he just looked like he ate something bad when he read it, but then he looks like that a lot so I don't know if it meant anything. I think what he was _really _mad about was that I said Saint Patrick's Day was lucky and he said it wasn't. … I guess I shouldn't have argued."

"Nonsense! Always stand up for what you believe in."

"But that just it… I don't know if I _do_ believe in luck."

"Hm… well why don't we put it to the test?"

"How do we do that?" Harry asked with curiosity.

"It's about time I started helping you with my end of the deal – getting your daddy to realize you're responsible and to say 'yes' to a dog. Since we are going to need a bit of manipulation … liberally coated with luck … to do that - we'll just have to make some."

"Make some? You can make luck?"

"Oh yes indeedy! What you need to make it is all around us. You just have to believe, and know where to look."

"So where do I look?"

"Well wishes are a kind of luck. Do you remember when you said that you wished on a birthday candle that I would come, and then I did? Well that was lucky for you because I might have been busy elsewhere."

"I don't have any more birthday candles," Harry said sadly.

"There are other lucky things you can wish on."

"Like what?"

"When I was young we used to wish on stars. But it has to be a special star to be lucky."

"How do you know if it's a special one?"

"Well there are all kinds of wishing stars. Falling stars are the most popular because there are more of them, but the most special one is the very first star of the evening. It's very powerful."

"What makes it so special? I mean there are lots of stars."

"That's why it's so special… because there are billions and billions of stars, and billions and billions of people. But there is only one first star every night, and only one person can be the first to see it. So it takes a quick eye to see it before it's joined by all the others stars in the night sky. It only has the power to grant wishes if it's the only one in the sky when you make your wish, and it's only that way for a few seconds. It's so fast that if you blink, you could miss it. Then you have to be the first one to see it, before anyone else wishes on it first. Many people just wish on any bright star thinking it will do, but they're tempting fate, when they do that they usually get bad luck instead."

"So how do you wish on it so to make it lucky?"

"There's an old nursery rhyme…"

"Oh! I know which one you mean. 'Starlight, Starbright'!"

"So you've used it before?"

"Nah… but I heard Aunt Petunia teach it to Dudley."

"Why didn't you ever say it too?"

"Because I couldn't see the stars from my cupboard - no window," Harry shrugged.

Cosmos liked this Aunt Petunia less and less.

"Well then it's about time you used it."

Cosmos sat by the window with Harry on his lap, and they watched as twilight slowly claim the sky. Just as Harry was becoming cross-eyed, from trying not to blink, he caught a twinkle in the corner of his eye.

"I see it! I see it!"

"So be quick - make your wish!"

"_Starlight, Starbright  
first star I see tonight  
I wish I may, I wish I might  
have the wish I wish tonight"_

"… I wish … I wish that Daddy will let me have a dog." Harry closed his eyes and wished fervently. "Do you – do you think it worked?" he cracked one eye open at Cosmos.

"Maybe - you did a good job of it. So now that we have some luck on our side, you need to add the manipulation factor to help boost its power."

"How do I do that?"

"With a little thing called reverse psychology. There are two ways to do that - either you need to make the other person think that whatever you want is their idea to begin with, or you need to make them think that what you want is the lesser of two evils. You do the last one by asking for the opposite of what you want … hence the reverse part. Get it? Now in your case you want a dog, and they say it's too big, so you have to make it seem not so big."

"But I tried that already! I asked for a puppy instead of a dog, since it was smaller, and it didn't work," Harry explained exasperatedly.

"Ah but parents do have some intelligence, they are parents after all, and they know that small things like little puppies and little boys grow, so what you have to do is play the psychological game …"

"Sigh-ko games?" Harry frowned as he tried to sound it out. "What are the rules?"

"Heh-heh. Yeah, it is a bit psycho at that. But it's also the beauty and excitement of psychology - there really are no rules! It's much more fun that way - you have to read every case as unique and different. However they do mostly follow a set pattern of behaviour, so if you can read your opponent you can also predict the likely outcome of a given set of circumstances." Cosmos said getting into the subject with glee, "Take your parents for instance - they want to say yes, I mean… who wouldn't want to say yes to those eyes, but you have make them believe it's their idea or the lesser of two evils. Now you already have a head start on the 'it's their idea' part …"

"I do?"

"Yes, didn't you say they already offered to get you a pet?"

"Yeah," Harry snorted. "Some dumb old cat."

"Well see? So a pet is not out of the question, it is now just a matter of what kind."

"I want a dog. I want you," Harry said firmly.

"Well then that works out well," Cosmos chuckled, "because you're stuck with me. But what we need to do is to make your parents agree as well - that a dog is a fine choice."

"But HOW?" Harry was starting to be frustrated beyond his limits.

"By making a dog a much better choice than all the possible alternatives. Now to address the lesser of two evils aspect …" Cosmos started pacing and tapping his forehead in thought. "The first thing we should address is size, as that seems to be a major stumbling block. As you noted before, asking for something smaller that would eventually be the same size didn't work, so you need to ask for something that's larger to start with that will grow even bigger with time."

"Like what?"

"Let's see … is there anything that that cousin of yours wanted, that your aunt and uncle said no to because of its size?"

"They don't say no to Dudley at all. Wait a minute ... Dudley did ask for a pony once! He didn't get it, but they did give him riding lessons. I know because they had a picture of him sitting on the pony hanging on the wall. The pony didn't look very happy."

"That's just the ticket! Ponies are bigger than dogs and they grow into horses … well if they're foals they do, ponies really don't - they're naturally small. However, that's a common misconception so we can work with it. Go on … go ask him for one! Ask him for a pony!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah! It's a perfect place to start. Go on! Go on!" Cosmos urged him out the door.

"Er … Daddy?" Harry asked coming up timidly beside him.

"Yes Son?"

"Can I – canIhaveapony?" he finished in a rush of words.

"No Son," James replied without even having to think about it.

"Okay Daddy," Harry said and slunk back to his room with his head hanging down.

"He said 'NO'," Harry reported reproachfully the minute he got inside and closed the door.

"That's okay. I thought he would."

"Then whyyyy did you make me ask him?" Harry asked stomping his feet.

"Just because."

"Oh."

"Don't worry we're not done yet. You work on that essay, and I'll work on thinking up our next step," Cosmos told him as he opened the window. "I do my best thinking in wide open spaces so I'm going out for a bit. Don't wait up!" he advised and transfigured back into his animagus form as he jumped over the sill, landing quietly in the alley on all fours. It was time to make his own wish come true. Now that he had found Harry, he wanted to start searching for Remus. He had a little payback coming, for leaving him in Azkaban - the dirty rotten git. Cosmos had had a lot of time to think in-between his naps, and now that the dementors weren't clouding his thoughts, the more he thought about it the more he wanted revenge for being betrayed.

One floor down, Remus made a wish of his own on the thin stream of light that pierced his cement prison though the cracks between the boards sealing his window tight.

"_Moonlight, Nightlight  
I beg of you a small respite  
and from your power I wish requite  
to help me through till morn's in sight"_

He felt a pang in his heart as he recited the poem - it was just a stupid little rhyme his childhood friend Sirius had made up for him. Sirius, gods how he missed him, he loved him more than almost anyone on the face of the earth, and he had failed him the most as well. Since that night when Voldemort attacked, he had made one mistake after another. He had made all the wrong choices, and his friends had had to pay for it. James, Lily, and Harry had all forgiven him, but with Sirius dead, he would never find true solace. Remus turned over and pulled the pillow over his head to block out the shaft of moonlight that pierced his heart. He just wished that Sirius was still alive somewhere.

One floor up, Lily and James sat cuddled on the comfy couch with Holly between them and watched out the window as the western sky darkened to match its eastern half.

"I had to say no again."

"You did? So he still wants a puppy?"

"Nope – a pony this time. I don't know what he's thinking. If we don't have room for a dog, we sure don't have room for a horse. They're even bigger!"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Lily said. "It's probably just one of those phases we read about. He'll forget about it soon enough."

"I wish."

"So do I … hey look!" Lily said sitting up and pointing out the window. "The first star!"

She closed her eyes and started to chant…

"_Starlight, Starbright,  
the first star to rise tonight  
I wish I may, I wish I might  
have those I love within my sight"_

"From your mouth to god's ear," James said lovingly as they kissed, missing the dark shape that chose that moment to run swiftly past their window down the pavement across from their flat.

One floor up, Dudley pouted as his mother made him rewrite the essay she had written for him, over in his own hand. "Do I haft to Daddy? Can't you just make Mum write it so it looks like I wrote it?"

"Nonsense Dudders, its good penmanship practice for you. If you want to succeed in business you must have good penmanship," his father answered. "If you do well, I'll get you a new BB gun next weekend and not make you wait for your birthday."

"Really?" Dudley perked up and started writing with more enthusiasm.

"I thought you were going to make the freaks fix his old one," Petunia reminded him.

"I threw it out, it was infected by all that m-ma- all that freaky stuff. I've seen first-hand that anything _that_ touches is contaminated. Didn't want it anywhere near our little tyke."

"Wouldn't that be true of any money we got from them too?" Petunia was puzzled at his logic.

"Codswallop! Money's - money. Not the same at all," Vernon replied burying his nose in the London Times and effectively ending the conversation.

After Dudley finished copying the essay, Petunia sent him to bed and tucked him in.

"Diddydums, I'm sorry this flat is so small that there isn't a play room for you." Petunia apologized as he climbed into bed.

"But not forever right?" Dudley whinged. "I _will_ get my telly and computer back won't I?"

"Of course, my precious boy."

"When?" he asked petulantly. "It's been weeks, and weeks, and weeks now and I'm getting bored. I want them now!"

"You should have them back soon. Why don't you wish for it?" she asked going to the window and looking out at the starry sky. "There are a lot of stars out tonight."

"I thought that only worked on the first star," Dudley said doubtfully.

"Now, now, now … my baby angel should have all the wishes he wants!" Petunia simpered. "Come to the window and wish with me."

"_Starlight, Starbright,  
all the stars we see tonight  
we wish we may, we wish we might  
have all the wishes we wish tonight"_

Petunia and Dudley sat in the window and made wishes well into the night, wishing for every possession they could think of, on every star they saw. They even wished on a few twice, but never once looked down, or they might have noticed their building was under keen observation once again.

Nonetheless, it was two very tired boys who handed in their essays the next day, as despite Cosmos' cheerful instructions not to wait up for him, Harry had done that very thing. He just couldn't fall asleep until he knew Cosmos was under his bed keeping the rabid toe-eating dust bunnies at bay. Stifling a wide yawn, he dropped the essay on his teacher's desk as he entered the classroom.

"So Mister…_'Krueger', _am I to assume you've produced six inches of quality research?"

"Yes Sir," Harry nodded sleepily, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"Hm … we shall see," he replied looking down his nose at him before he began reading.

_The Fallacy of Saint Patrick__'__s Day by Harry Krueger_

"At least you spelled it correctly this time," Mr. Nathraichean said begrudgingly.

_Some people say Saint Patrick__'__s Day isn__'__t lucky because they say there is no such thing as luck and if you say it is then it is a fallacy but if luck really did exist then that wouldn__'__t be true and it wouldn__'__t be a fallacy because fallacy is a noun that means deceptive and if it isn__'__t deceptive then it isn__'__t a fallacy. _

_Many things prove luck exists one of these is wishing on falling stars, and another is wishing on the first star to appear each night because if you see the first star before anyone else sees it first and you say the right words you will get your wish. If it doesn__'__t come true it just means someone else wished first so this proves that luck does exist because someone somewhere got their wish granted and that is a lucky thing for them. And since luck does exist it is a fallacy to say Saint Patrick__'__s Day isn__'__t lucky. _

Mr. Nathraichean looked at the class over the top of the paper. Every one of the twenty-two heads was nodding in agreement to the claim.

"Fallacy can also be used as an adverb - fallaciousness: meaning to use guile or trickery in an attempt to deceive. For example - claiming that this essay was quality work in the hopes I would not indulge in actually trying to read it was an act of fallaciousness. You may write another three. No, make that four, as you are still an inch short and there is a decided lack of proper grammar and punctuation. Neatness counts, messiness doesn't."

"What!" Harry exclaimed wanting to protest. He knew it was long enough!

"Since you are so fond of using nursery rhymes as erroneous arguments, let me put it to you this way so that you might understand …"

"_Daybright, Sunbright,  
it's only fools who stay up all night  
as what they write is very trite.  
So again - you will rewrite"_

"You are not very 'lucky' are you?" Mr. Nathraichean smirked, as did Dudley when the teacher marked his essay with an 'A' and handed it back without even measuring it.

"Did it go any better today?" Lily asked as Harry drug in for the second day in a row and assumed his martyr position on the footstool. "Hm… I guess not. What was it this time?"

"He said it wasn't long enough again. But it was! I measured it three times!"

"Was that all? Maybe I better talk to him…"

"No, it's okay," Harry sighed. "He said a lot of other stuff too, but I didn't understand what it all was, except the part where he said it was mess and I didn't punctuate. I guess I deserve it…"

"Then I guess you better do it again as he requested," Lily agreed.

"Okay. But do you know anything else lucky I could write about? I'm about out of ideas."

"Well … Holly is sleeping through the night a month ahead of schedule. I call that lucky."

"It is?"

"Yes, the last few nights, I haven't heard a peep out of her. It's been nice to get a full night's rest. I feel so much better. I know your dad is a lot less edgy too."

Harry grinned. He knew why they hadn't heard Holly - Cosmos had been tending to her so that his parents wouldn't come in and find him. Having a dog was great! "But I don't think that is something my teacher would think was lucky."

"If he's a bachelor, you're right he probably won't. If he was a father, he would know how lucky it truly is." Lily laughed. "Let's see what did you write about last time?"

"Wishing on falling stars and on the first star at night."

"Well … there are other things you can wish on such as finding dropped coins and four-leaf clovers. They're lucky too," she said quoting …

"_See a penny, pick it up  
All day long you'll have good luck"_

"Okay I'll try that." Harry retired to his room to try the essay for the third time, only to have his playful pup do his best to distract him. Cosmos did seem to need his attention, and he had until tomorrow before he had to worry about Mr. Nathraichean again.

"Are you ready?" Cosmos asked after coaching Harry though several hours of 'puppy-dog-eyes' training in front of the mirror. "We need to up the ante a bit as it were."

"Up the ante?"

"Yeah, we need to make it even bigger than a pony - and something more 'exotic' too!"

"Exotic?"

"Yeah … you know … um … like something you'd see in a zoo."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Yes, go on now! Shoo! And don't forget the eyes!" he reminded him pointing at his own.

"Okay…" Harry said before he left, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, and blinking real hard until his eyes watered up a bit, he tentatively tiptoed over to his daddy and patted him on the arm to get his attention.

"Er … Daddy?"

"Yes Son?"

"Can I … can I have an- an elephant?"

"The gigantic grey thing with tusks and the long trunk?"

Harry nodded.

"No …" James said pausing slightly this time. "No, I don't think so Son."

"Okay Daddy ..." Harry said sadly looking at him with the biggest, wettest, green eyes imaginable before dolefully heading back to his room - dragging his feet the whole way and making sure to hang his head and slump his shoulders as Cosmos had shown him.

As soon as he got inside, he turned to Cosmos who had been hiding behind the door and poked him in the chest with an accusatory finger. "He said 'No' again!"

"That's okay. Not a problem … did he take longer to think about it at least?"

"Noooooo … not really. But he did use more words."

"Well, that's all right then."

"It is?" Harry said incredulously.

"Completely."

With his long legs dangling off the end of the bed, and using Harry's stuffed animal as a pillow, Cosmos stretched out and shot essay suggestions at him while Harry tried to finish the assignment. While in the other room, James and Lily discussed his latest plea.

"An elephant - he wants an elephant Lily. That is not moving in the right direction at all."

"Are you sure he meant a real one?"

"Yes, tusks and all, I asked to be sure. I'm beginning to think this isn't a phase."

"Maybe we could get him a stuffed dog," Lily said snuggling Holly down between them on the comfy couch.

"I got him a stuffed stag," James pointed out jealously.

"I know and it is a beautiful stag honey, but maybe a dog too? He doesn't have that many toys. Another stuffie wouldn't spoil him."

"… _goo ... ga … kama! … kama ! ..." _Holly gurgled putting in her two cents worth. Her big brother wanted a real dog and so did she … Cosmos!

"That's 'da-da' not 'ka-ma'… c'mon you're so close! Say it now … da-da …" he pleaded.

"Your jealous streak is showing. You're thinking of Sirius - aren't you?"

"Yeah … and I know I shouldn't be … and don't get me wrong I'd give anything for him to be around giving me grief again," he admitted with a sad laugh. "You know, I bet he literally spent days teaching Harry to say 'pa-foo' as his first word instead of 'dada'."

"It was pretty funny. You should have seen your face when Harry finally said it. It was priceless!" Lily laughed at the glum look on his face.

"Quit laughing."

"Yes dear."

Wednesday morning Harry left with an essay he was positive Mr. Nathraichean would like. The coin idea had been good, but it was his mummy's suggestion of writing about four-leaf clovers which reminded him that his teacher had shown a great deal of interest in plants, and had mentioned flora and fauna in regards to Saint Patrick's Day. Harry was sure he had a winner this time and handed it in proudly. He didn't even mind knowing that the teacher was sure to read it out loud again to try and ridicule him.

"So Mister …_'Krueger'_, am I to assume from the look on your face that you believe that you have now managed to fashion an acceptable essay?"

"Yes Sir I have!" he nodded as he took his seat. He had put in lots of extra words at Cosmos prodding to make it extra long, and had looked them all up in the dictionary just to be sure he had spelled them right. He had even written it in cursive so it would be neater, even if it did take longer because he had to keep rewriting it.

"We shall see … we shall see …"

_The Lucky Flora of Saint Patrick's Day by Harry Krueger_

"Still feeling 'lucky' are we?" Mr. Nathraichean didn't seem pleased with the title.

_The shamrock is the flora symbol of Saint Patrick's Day, because Saint Patrick used it when he was a monk to teach about his church. But another flora symbol is the lucky four-leaf clover. If you find a four-leaf clover it is very very lucky because they are hard to find because they are really really rare. Each leaf stands for something lucky. The first is for hope, the second is for faith, the third is for love and the fourth is for luck. So as you can see, if you search for a four-leaf clover and find one it is very lucky and not a fallacy at all._

"So… you consider a 'Trifolium repens Quadrifolium' to be… lucky?"

"No … a four-leaf clover."

"That is what I said - a four-leaf clover."

"No you didn't," Harry argued under his breath. He didn't want to have his essay marked down again, and from the look on his teacher's face it was about to be.

"I always thought a four-leaf clover was lucky too." Dudley waved his hand and piped up, miraculously agreeing with Harry on this one. However, Harry wouldn't have been so grateful for his cousin's backup, if he had know Dudley's ulterior motive was just to keep the teacher riled up. He liked seeing Harry in trouble. "Don't you think so too Mr. Nathraichean?"

"I think nothing of the sort Mister Dursley. Let us dissect Mister…_'Krueger's'_ argument." Mr. Nathraichean peered down his long hooked nose at Harry. Harry thought his teacher looked more as if he really wanted to dissect him instead of his essay. "Point one… you claim that when a clover has four leaves instead of the customary three it is lucky. A four-leaf clover is merely an aberration of nature caused by a somatic mutation. If you had three arms instead of two, would you consider it … lucky?"

"Maybe …" he thought out loud, thinking if he had three arms he could throw several sticks one time for Cosmos. When everyone giggled at him, he slouched in his seat. "I guess not …"

"Point two … you further claim that looking for and finding a four-leaf clover is lucky. It would seem the very action of 'looking' for it negates the 'luck' quotient if 'found', as the term 'luck' refers to chance and happenstance, rather than a planned occurrence. Agreed?"

"I guess so …" Harry slouched further.

"So what do we have here?" he asked dangling the offending essay in front of Harry.

"Another fallacy?"

"Quite so Mister…_'Krueger'. _Since you had the foresight to make it five inches instead of the required four, to be fair I shall give you extra credit for that …" Harry sat up relieved until he heard the fateful words, "… then deducting fifty percent for extraneous words and pure idiocy, you only owe me two and a half more."

Harry turned red.

Dudley snorted with glee.

"Was school any better today sweetie?" Lily asked him with a smile as she took fresh hot biscuits out of the oven. "Holly and I made them four-leaf clover shaped, in honour of you finishing your essay."

"Better not let me have any then - I didn't finish," Harry said morosely. "Besides I don't think I can look at a four-leaf clover anymore without thinking about it being a mutant."

"Why? What happened?" Lily asked sitting down with him at the table.

"Mummy … do you think that sometimes there are just some things you can't do?"

"Like what?"

"Like making my teacher happy ... I have to write it again."

"He didn't like any of it?"

"Well … I am down to just two and a half inches."

"Do you need any more ideas? I'd be happy to help you when I finish feeding snicklefritz here," she offered sympathetically.

"I'll go ask Cos … um … my cousin that's it. I'll go ask Dudley, his essay already passed."

"Are you two are getting along better now?" Lily asked pleased. "Maybe we should have him over for supper tonight."

"… uh … maybe not tonight … I do have to write my essay again. But I'll take him some biscuits," Harry said quickly grabbing the plate before he ran to his room.

"But isn't Dudley …" Lily stopped as the bedroom door slammed behind him, so she finished her thought to Holly instead. "… upstairs? You have a very silly brother. Yes you do! Now how about saying 'mama' for me? Hm? ... ma - ma …?"

Harry leaned against the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Dodged another bullet!

"Are those homemade sugar biscuits?" Cosmos sniffed deeply and immediately liberated the plate from Harry. "I've been going spare all afternoon smelling these baking! Your mummy is a cruel, cruel woman Harry. Enough of me, I want to know what happened with you. So tell me…" Cosmos asked between bites "… how'd the essay go over?"

"Not so good. He called it idiotic and I have to do another one."

"If he said that – then he's a git!" Cosmos said frowning and thinking hard. "Maybe we should have used more words."

"I don't think it would have helped," Harry sighed deeply.

"Do that again!"

"Do what?"

"Sigh."

"Why?"

"I think it's what we've been missing."

"Missing?"

"Yeah, from our 'get-your-dad-to-say-yes-to-a-dog' equation. It's good mind you, a promising start – but it needs a little work to make it great. It doesn't sound quite pitiful enough."

After several hours of sigh practice, Cosmos decided his protégé was ready for another attempt.

"Okay, I think we have the size issue pretty well nailed down. A dog has to be looking pretty small in comparison by now. So now we need to start addressing the alternate pet being a better choice issue."

"How do we do that?"

"Tell me again - what kind of pets did they say might be acceptable?"

"They said maybe a cat or a bird." Harry neglected to mention the kneazle, toad, and pygmy puff suggestions. He just couldn't imagine cuddling up with a toad, and he had no idea what a kneazle was. A pygmy puff did at least sound soft and cuddly … but a puff - for a pet? His aunt used to have a powder puff that Dudley had once appropriated as a marker for first base. When he put it back in the jar of powder, it had more dirt and unknown plant material clinging to it, than powder. Harry had gotten blamed when his aunt broke out in an allergic rash. So all in all, the idea of a puff for pet wasn't terribly appealing.

"Okay we can work with that. A cat … hm … so what we need is a cat that is large and somewhat inappropriate for a nine-year-old to keep in their bedroom …"

"Like what?"

"Well … tigers are cats … LARGE cats and I would classify them as somewhat inappropriate for a pet."

"Yeah!" Harry ginned in agreement. "They have teeth!"

"Yes they do - quite sharp ones. I think a tiger will do nicely. Now go ask him. Remember to point out it's a cat, and don't forget the big sigh this time. Oh, and slump your shoulders. Remember? Like we practiced!"

"Okay, but it had better work this time," Harry warned as he scampered out of the room.

"Er … Daddy?"

"Yes Son?"

"Can I – can I have a tiger?"

"Um ... a tiger?" James asked a bit startled. These pet requests were getting a bit out of hand. Instead of more reasonable, they were becoming more and more outlandish.

"A tiger _is_ a cat, isn't it? And you and Mummy _did_ say maybe a cat," Harry pointed out reasonably, quite proud of the fact that he was catching on to this psychological game. Cosmos was right, it was kind of fun!

"True we did… however a tiger isn't quite what we had in mind, so it is still a 'no'."

"Oooookaaaaay Daddy..." Harry sighed as loudly and as pitifully as he could, and added a second for good measure as he closed his door.

"He said no again," he reported glumly flopping on his back on top of the bed.

"That was expected, you forgot to slump. But did he offer anything in return yet?"

"No, he just said 'no' - that a tiger wasn't what they had in mind when they said a cat."

"Hm … he's a little more difficult and stubborn than I imagined, sort of like your teacher. But still okay, it'll just take a bit more time, but we're wearing him down."

"We are?"

"Without a doubt, my boy, without a doubt. Now about that essay …"

Thursday morning rolled in along with new thunder clouds dotting the horizon. As James walked Harry and Dudley to school, he kept thinking about Remus. He had seen him up and about for the past three nights, skulking in the alley behind the building. However, every time he went out to talk to him, he had disappeared before he got there.

Remus was always antisocial during this time of the month, but blast it all - the man needed to get a hold of himself! They were running out of time, Gringotts wasn't open on the weekends. That just gave them today and tomorrow. James was not a patient man, he wanted action, and he wanted it now. He was so antsy about it that Lily had promised to try and coax Remus up for supper that night, and failing that to see if she could get more time out of Vernon.

"You boys have a good day," James told them as he dropped them off. "And Harry …" he paused and drew the little boy back to him. "I realize you've been having problems with your new teacher, but I'd like you to give him a chance. It's been my experience that any teacher that is willing to pay that much attention to you, and who wants help you improve, is a good teacher - whether his style of teaching is to your liking or not. Keep that in mind and try to learn what he has to teach. He may surprise you and turn out to be a good guy. Okay?"

"Okay Daddy. I'll try." Harry promised and hugged him goodbye before running after Dudley. Today was going to be different anyway he thought optimistically. He was sure to get a good mark this time. He had left out almost all of the extra words that Cosmos had kept trying to put in, and he had a show-and-tell item to go with it! What could be better than that?

"So Mister…_'Krueger'… _here we are again." Mr. Nathraichean tented his hands and leaned back in his chair to contemplate his student. After skimming through the essay he had heaved a weary sigh, to the delight of the class who was in the mood for a bit of light entertainment on such a gloomy morning. Harry being in trouble - could usually provide it.

"Once again you have committed a crime against literature. Shall we review the evidence?"

_The Lucky Fauna of Saint Patrick's Day by Harry Krueger_

"Again with the 'luck' theme …" Mr. Nathraichean read out loud and then stopped to glower.

The class giggled - they were right. Fun!

"But this time it's about the _fauna_ instead of the_ flora_," Harry pointed out, proud that he figured out what the words meant.

"Indeed - as your creative title suggests," he sneered lightly and started reading again…

_Another lucky thing about Saint Patrick's Day is rabbit's feet. Since a rabbit is an animal and animals are fauna that makes rabbit feet lucky fauna of Saint Patrick's Day. Rabbit feet are mostly lucky in America but that is okay because a lot of Irish people live there as I said before. They also have a lot of rabbits. They say if you carry a rabbit's foot in your pocket and you rub it that you will be lucky when you gamble. And if you gamble with a lucky coin you picked up you will be twice as lucky. _

"My, my, Mister… _'Krueger'…_ is that so?"

Harry nodded 'yes' and started to take the rabbit's foot in his pocket. He didn't know where Cosmos had gotten it, but this morning he had found the gaudy orange-dyed furry keychain on his book bag. He had brought it to show the class, but as Mr. Nathraichean didn't seem any happier with his essay, he decided that maybe he needed to keep all the luck to himself, so he rubbed it shoved it back in his pocket.

"What is that you just secreted in your pocket?" Mr. Nathraichean asked suspiciously approaching his desk and holding out his hand.

"Nuthin' …" Harry hedged, backing away until he hit the front of the desk behind him.

"Nothing? Then you won't mind showing it to me."

Harry reluctantly pulled the rabbit's foot out of his pocket and handed it over.

"Ah ... the severed limb of a leporidae lagamorpha … dyed florescent orange, how quaint. No doubt brought to illustrate your essay."

Harry nodded miserably.

"Do you understand the true lore behind the superstition of the rabbit's foot?"

"Not really …" Remus and Cosmos had both been a little sketchy on the details.

"Let me educate you. Charms, such as the one you hold, are made only from the left hind foot of a rabbit, which was snared in a cemetery during the dark of the moon. It was believed that cemetery rabbits were actually transfigured witches, and by taking their foot, you were taking their power. As the vessel of this power, the rabbit's foot is reputed to protect the holder from dark magic." Mr. Nathraichean bent his head down until it was even with Harry's and continued his lecture in a low, silky, almost hypnotizing voice.

"To make it truly 'lucky' it is severed while the rabbit is still alive. Tell me Mister..._'Krueger'_, would you consider it 'lucky' if I dragged you to a cemetery, tied you up so you could not squirm away, and then … Lopped. Off. Your. Foot?" He dropped the charm into Harry's hand.

'NO SIR!' Harry mouthed silent horror, dropping the rabbit's foot as if it had burned him. He would have to check when he got home to make sure his mummy still had her left foot! He couldn't remember seeing her standing this morning. She was just sitting on the couch feeding Holly when he left. Maybe she couldn't stand! Maybe that's where the rabbit's foot came from!

"Tell me Mister…_'Krueger'… _what is this infernal fascination you have with 'luck'?"

"I don't know what you mean Sir," Harry answered back cheekily. He was more frightened now of what he might find when he got home, than he was of his teacher.

"No doubt - since I used words of more than one syllable. I am asking you to explain why you are so passionate to find 'luck'. Are you not aware by now that there is no such thing? It is only by hard work and effort that anything truly meaningful is achieved. The cosmic ramifications of one person 'finding' luck means that it is taken away from someone else. Such as the unfortunate rabbit that lost its foot, or the true owner of the coin, who may very well go hungry now because of its lack. Do you understand yet what I have been trying to teach you?"

"I- I guess so."

"Good. Then shall we call it an even inch you still owe me? Oh, and Mister… _'Krueger'…_ you should take heed of my warning."

"Warning?"

"Stay out of graveyards," Mr. Nathraichean retorted dryly.

The entire class was quiet, other than a sliding sound as the charm was kicked along the floor from one child to the next, like a large pinball game, until it ended up in Dudley's pocket.

The rest of the day couldn't pass quickly enough for Harry, and like all bad things, it took its own sweet time about ending. After the final bell rang, Harry practically flew home and startled Lily by rushing in, falling to his knees at her feet, and hugging her around the ankles.

"What's going on?" she asked amused wiggling her toes at him.

"I'm just happy you have two feet," he said gratefully looking up at her with a relieved grin.

"Was there some doubt that I would?" she laughed pulling him up into a hug.

"No ... not really, I just needed to check."

"Let me assure you I do - one right and one left. So how did the essay go today?"

"Down to one inch."

"My … your teacher is rather exacting isn't he?"

"Uh-huh, but I finally know what to write that will make him happy."

"Then why don't you get that behind you. Then if you would please tidy up your room and come back and set the table with the good china, I would appreciate it."

"The good china? Is someone coming?"

"You're dad's going to be home early and Vernon, Petunia and Dudley and coming for dinner, and hopefully Remus. It's going to be a regular_ family_ meal," she said fiercely with a stress on the 'family' and with a look of determination in her flashing eyes.

"Okay Mummy … I'll be right back." Harry agreed, trying to hide his trepidation at the guest list.

With a shudder at the thought of what was to come, he went to his room where he found Cosmos taking a late afternoon nap in his customary spot under the bed. In addition to wallpapering the underside of the bunk - on his nightly foraging, he had also appropriated the comfy sofa pillow and the soft blanket that was usually tossed across its back. Harry reached under and scratched behind his ears to receive a happy tail-thumping greeting in reciprocation.

"Did the treacherous old bleeder like it? And did you find my gift?" Cosmos came out from under the bed and stretched his limbs. Every day he had been feeling stronger and more alive.

"He didn't, and yes I did - thank you, but it got me into trouble," Harry said a bit annoyed, flumping down on his desk chair with a scowl and crossing his arms.

"Oh don't be like that kiddo," Cosmos teased. "So what didn't he like this time?"

"All of it, but I only have an inch to go. I thought he might toss the whole thing out, but he didn't."

"You're probably wearing him down enough that he just wants to get it over." Cosmos observed wisely. "Speaking of wearing people down with persistence - we need to ask your daddy the next question. This time we need to ask him for something a bit more … ah … dangerous!"

"Really? More dangerous than a tiger?"

"Yeah … we already did something with teeth, so now how about something with horns?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes! Smashing! Okay, go on now!"

"But he'll just say no again - there's no way he'll say yes to horns!" Harry protested. He really didn't see where all this psycho business was getting him anywhere.

"But that's exactly what we want." Cosmos assured him.

"It is?"

"Oh absolutely. A good dad wouldn't just nonchalantly said 'yes' to a vicious beast would he?"

"… um … no?"

"Right! So go ask!"

Harry looked crossly at Cosmos. He was beginning to wonder if having a dog was worth it. However, after taking one more look at his hopeful eyes, he decided to give it one more chance.

"Er … Daddy?"

"Yes Son?"

"Can I have a rhinoceros?" It was the biggest thing he could think of that had a horn. There was one in the background in the picture of Dudley at the London Zoo - they kind of looked alike.

"A rhinoceros? Ah ... that's still a 'no' Son." James looked over his paper as his son's big sad eyes. A puppy was looking more reasonable all the time. He ought to talk to Lily about it again.

"Okay Daddy, I didn't really think so ..." Harry hopelessly trooped back to report to Cosmos.

"Okay … he said no, just like I said he would. Now what?"

"You forgot to sigh! And where were the hung head and the shoulder slump? What good was all that practicing if you don't do it?"

"I'm sorry Cosmos."

"That's okay. He's just about ready anyway. Just one more and then we'll ask him the real question. Trust me?"

"I think so … but are you_ sure _he won't get mad?"

"Nah … well … probably not … at least I hope not …"

"He better not, or I'm telling Mummy you made me!"

"Ooo ... let's not get her involved."

"Harry? Table?" Lily called out loudly from the other room.

"Oh no! That's Mummy! I forgot - I'm supposed to set the table. My relatives are coming for supper tonight. Maybe - maybe you better go out while they're here. Dudley is awfully nosy - he might see you."

"Okay kiddo. I better go find myself something to eat then. With that elephant of a cousin of yours coming, there probably won't be leftovers anyway. See you later!" Cosmos sprang over the windowsill and into the alley. As Harry stood by the window and watched him disappear around the corner in a loping trot, he had a small pang of doubt if he would really come back. People left him all the time. With a lump in his throat, he pushed down the thought. Cosmos would come back, he had every time so far, and this time it was his idea to have him go. It was just that he missed him already, and he hadn't been gone but a minute. Carefully fingering the smooth leather band he had in his pocket, he felt glad again, and decided that he would give it to Cosmos after school on Friday, as a present for their one-week anniversary.

Harry stopped woolgathering when he heard Lily call him the second time. Quickly straightening his spread, and neatening the room, he hurried out to set the table.

Eight plates - check. Eight cups - check. Eight sets of silverware - check. Eight napkins - check. Eight chairs - check. Harry counted everything as he studiously set the table.

"Um … why eight?" James asked coming up behind him and critiquing his work. "Holly doesn't use silverware yet, and she has a high chair. Don't make her grow up too fast," he kidded.

"Oh that's right, I forgot the highchair." Harry drug it over - there, now there were nine.

"Don't you still have an extra place set?"

"No, nine is right – Uncle Remmy, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, you, Mummy, Holly, me and Cos-" Harry stopped counting on his fingers in mid sentence. "Oh, you're right. I guess I was counting Dudley twice."

"He does eat for two but let's not encourage it," James said taking one of the place settings away just as the bell rang.

"Get that okay?"

Harry knew it was his upstairs uncle ringing the bell, because his downstairs uncle had a key. He wasn't looking forward to this. He'd heard Uncle Vernon scream and yell a lot over the past few months, but he had carefully avoided actually coming face to face with him since that time right before Christmas when he had locked him in his cupboard and then left him there.

Harry still had nightmares of Uncle Vernon's red face as he told him that there was no such thing as magic, and that he was going to lock him in until all that tommyrot was out of his head once and for all - no matter how long it took. Harry had known his uncle had meant it too. That was one of Harry's worst fears, being locked in and forgotten. He used to have nightmares almost every night that he was back in his cupboard, but this past week, with Cosmos guarding him he hadn't had a one. Cosmos seemed to understand his fear like no one else did.

Squaring his shoulders and took a deep breath and opened the door.

"It's about time!" his uncle growled pushing past him and claiming the most comfortable chair. "It isn't decent to keep us waiting on the stoop like common riff-raff."

Harry bowed his head and silently stepped quickly out of the way.

Aunt Petunia followed closely on Uncle Vernon's heels. As she passed by Harry, she sniffed with her nose in the air and told him that he smelled like wet dog. This made Harry smile knowingly, much to the disgust of his aunt. His aunt had told him that often just to be mean, even though he kept himself and his clothes clean, but this time she was probably right.

Last through the door was Dudley who trailed in reluctantly behind his parents. He knew his auntie was still miffed at him for the BB gun incident and he was equally miffed at her, because she had turned his gun into a water pistol, one that leaked so his dad threw it out. If it hadn't been for his own mum's horrible cooking, he would have stayed behind, he thought irritably, shoving Harry into the wall as he passed by.

"Supper's about ready." Lily called from the kitchen, her voice followed by the succulent aroma of roast beef. James had brought back a particularly nice big roast from the grocery and she had been sure to cut off a blood rare portion of it for Remus. She also left one portion in extra long for her sister Petunia - who preferred everything well done. The rest was a nice medium pink. Lily was hoping that a good meal would put them all in the mood to be more reasonable.

Harry knew what his mummy was planning and shook his head at her efforts. He had lived with them for a long time. The Dursleys were never reasonable.

"Hey kiddo!" Remus ruffled his hair as he stepped through the door. "What cooking?"

Harry glowed at the welcome. He just realized that Cosmos called him 'kiddo' too, in the same identical way, teasing and affectionate at the same time. He couldn't wait until he would be able to introduce his favourite uncle to his favourite dog.

"You made it! We're having roast beef. Mummy saved a rare piece just for you - in case you could come." Harry smiled welcoming, taking his hand and leading him into the table where the rest of the family was. "I set a place for you right by me."

Remus chuckled as he noticed Harry's writing on the place cards directing everyone where to sit. He imagined that Harry had also been the one who had made up the odd seating arrangement. Along one side, Harry had seated James on the left and Remus on the right with himself and his mum and Holly's high chair sandwiched in the middle between them. Directly across from him, he had seated his cousin on a side to himself, which left his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon at either end.

Remus had noticed Harry's guarded body language, and insightfully thought the seating arrangement was his way of protecting himself from the intrusion of the upstairs relatives. That was, until Petunia spoke up.

"I see you haven't entirely let the boy forget the manners I trained into him," Petunia said with her nose held high. "He still knows to seat the important people at the head of the table, and to keep my Diddykins as far away from the undesirable elements as possible."

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise when neither Lily nor James said anything to that, and then he looked at Harry, who just flushed and ducked his head at his aunt's implied slam.

"Of course you should have the seats of honour," Lily placated her sister and then started to pass the jacket potatoes. "We're delighted to have you here, after all you are family."

"Don't act much like it." Vernon growled stabbing a more than liberal portion of beef off the platter. "No respect at all. You would have us twiddling away our days just sitting on our heels, while you lot muck about with a lot of codswallop and taradiddle." At his angry voice, so loud and so close, Harry jumped nervously and upset his milk. Remus took out his wand to spell it clean only he stopped in mid flick because of a look from Lily and a negative shake of the head from James. Puzzled he slid his wand back in his pocket.

"Clumsy!" Aunt Petunia admonished Harry sternly, before sliding the last two plump potatoes onto Dudley's plate, his own and the one meant for Harry. "You don't mind do you Lily? My sweetums has been so peckish lately."

"Well I …" Lily frowned as she wiped up the spill and poured Harry some more milk. Petunia cut her off her reply when Dudley's lower lip started to tremble. Once she turned her back, he grinned at Harry and kicked him under the table, causing him to upset his milk again.

"You really should just switch the boy to water Lily," Petunia said with disapproval, "that's what I had to do. Otherwise he just wastes good groceries."

"Wait just a minute now …" James started to protest only to be interrupted by Vernon. James saw what Dudley had done, and had no doubt it wasn't the first time, the little bully.

"Yes the little tyke has been off his feed lately, wasting away to skin and bone." Vernon agreed helping himself to the rest of the meat on the server, and splitting it with Dudley, "I blame it all on you. Traumatizing him with all that ma-ma- tommyrot business."

Dudley smirked as he stuffed his face and kicked Harry in the shin again.

Vernon and Petunia then launched into a seemingly never ending rant, criticizing everything under the sun, never letting James and Lily slip in more than an 'er' or an 'um', until Remus, still a bit edgy from his recent transformation, finally had had enough. He didn't understand why his best friends were letting the nasty trio harass them and their children like that. Didn't they see the effect it was having on Harry? Right before his eyes, he was reverting into the pale silent child that he had first met in January. This wasn't good.

"**SILENCE!"** Remus thundered in his loudest you-will-do-as-I-say teacher voice. Whipping out his wand as he rose and stared down Vernon and Petunia, whose mouths hung open in shock and fear, but finally no noise was coming out of them.

"You are supposed to be family! James and Lily are two of the nicest, giving, and loving people I have ever met, and Harry is one of the sweetest boys I have ever had the privilege to teach. You're family! Yet you're treating them as if they have the plague! What's the matter with you?"

"Those … those … _'people' _…" Vernon sputtered and fished out the florescent rabbit's foot that Dudley had given him - he waved it at Remus and declared, **"THEY ARE NOT MY FAMILY!"**

"And thank the gods for that!" James retorted only to have Lily hold him back, but he shook off her hand angrily. "No Lily. Vernon's right. We weren't before, we aren't now, and we never will be - 'family' to them. I tried to play nice and now I want them out of my home. NOW."

"But what about pudding?" Dudley wailed.

"Sorry Dudley, there is no pudding for you." Lily rose and started to clear off the dishes with tears in her eyes. All her best-laid plans ruined like the family dinner. Yesterday at tea she thought she was finally getting somewhere with Petunia, she had only carped once or twice. It could have gone so well if Vernon hadn't been Vernon.

Harry on his part had perked up considerably. He hadn't ever had anyone stand up to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia for him before, and it made him feel all warm inside. Besides he shrugged, he had gotten through the dinner with just two kicks and a shove. To him, that was a successful meal with the Dursleys.

"Forget pudding, I want my money! That was the only reason I agreed to come down here. I was promised that there wouldn't be any of that… stuff! But thanks to my Dudders here I came prepared with protection!" Vernon fumed, his face turning red as he gathered his family behind him holding the rabbit's foot between them and the wizards like a shield. "Petunia told me that you were finally ready to talk sense."

"About that," Lily started to plead, "one of the reasons we invited you to supper was to ask for a little more time."

"You've had all the time I'm going to give you. One day and that's final!" Vernon blustered.

"Don't you shout at my wife Dursley!"

"Dudley! Petunia! We're leaving," he announced hustling his family towards the door.

"But Daddy! I want pudding!" Dudley whined.

"I'll make you some when we get upstairs Popkin," Petunia said dragging him out.

"But you always burn it!" he protested.

"Don't fret Dudders, we'll soon have our cook back, and you can have him make you all the puddings you want." Vernon told him as he ascended the stairs.

"Filthy blighters," James growled under his breath as he slammed the door behind them.

"What was that all about?" Remus turned to his friends puzzled. "I thought I had walked into a very bad play. I've never known either of you to just sit and take insults like that."

"Harry? Would you please take Holly into your room while your father and I talk to Remus?" Lily asked lifting her out of her highchair and handing her to Harry along with a jar of baby food and a spoon. "She'd probably like a little more to eat, I got a bit preoccupied."

"Okay Mummy," Harry said agreeably, toting her off while crooning in her ear about feeding her 'smunched nanners'. His mood had lightened considerably now that the upstairs relatives were again upstairs.

"Smunched nanners," Remus repeated softly, sitting down suddenly on the couch as if his legs could no longer hold him up.

"What that?" James asked.

"Nanners – bananas," Remus clarified. "That's what Sirius used to call them all the time – nanners. I just hadn't heard them called that in years and it startled me. Harry must have picked it up from you," he said shaking the déjà vu feeling off. "But back to the Dursleys… what did Vernon mean by 'only one more day'?"

"Where to start …" James sat down heavily next to his friend and held his head in his hands in dismay. Now that Vernon was out of his sight and his temper was cooling, he realized the damage he'd just done by tossing him out on his ear.

"Here, have some ice cream. It's chocolate. It'll help you think." Lily handed them both a dish of the cold confection. "I already took some into Harry and checked on him. He's a little quiet, but okay."

"Thought you said we didn't have any pudding?" James quirked a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"No ... all I said was that I didn't have any for Dudley. He ate Harry's potato. I figured he didn't need any more to eat, so I gave his share to Harry." She licked the creamy confection off her spoon before asking, "So … my plan didn't work. Any idea what do we do now?"

"_That _was a _plan_?" Remus raised his eyebrows incredulous.

"Okay so not a very good one," Lily admitted. "But we had to do something. You were still recovering and we were running out of time. Vernon gave us a deadline to get him the money, and I was hoping to sweet talk him into an extension."

"Hence the 'one more day' comment," Remus said with understanding. "Tomorrow is it then?"

"Yes. Vernon said if we don't give him the money by Saturday morning, he's going to report us to the constables for kidnapping, and then he's going to take Harry back."

"What about Holly?"

"He said they'd take her away from us for being criminals, and put her in a foster home."

"And how was he going to explain, knowing where Harry was all this time, and not saying anything until now?"

"He got that figured out. He said he would tell them we've been holding him for ransom, and that we threatened to do him bodily harm if he went to the police. He has the reports of his burned house as 'proof' of my violence. Then he got a couple of shouting matches with me on tape and manipulated them to sound like I was the one demanding money and threatening him instead of the other way around. They're pretty good too, if I didn't know better listening to them I would assume he was the innocent party and was only looking out for Harry's welfare."

"Are you sure he's a muggle?"

"Very sure. Why?"

"Seems like he'd have fit nicely into the Death Eater's camp."

"Ha! He'd probably have them for breakfast. He may sound and act stupid, but he is really a very shrewd man, especially where money is concerned."

"So it sounds to me that our next move would be to speed up the Gringott's plan." Remus surmised correctly. "Why didn't you tell me before? We don't have much time left."

"I tried to," James said taking a folded sheet of old parchment out of his pocket, "I got the authorization letter all written for you, but every time I saw you outside and went to talk to you about it, you were always gone before I got there."

"But I haven't been outside my flat," Remus denied taking the letter and reading it with approval. "I didn't have much wolfsbane potion left so I only took half doses. The result was that this month was hard on me. I've been sleeping for days."

"Are you sure you're up to it then?" Lily said worriedly. "It's taking a big risk. You don't have to do it you know."

"Yes I do Lily. I'm a part of this family too … aren't I?"

"Absolutely!"

"Then I'm going to have to be up to it," Remus declared with determination refolding the letter and putting it in his own pocket. "I'll leave tonight. I don't have quite enough energy for apparating, so I'll fly - if you don't mind lending me your broom James. I had to sell mine quite a while ago to get money for more wolfsbane."

"Anything you want Remus … but be careful, it's a bit singed. Sirius pulled it out of the cottage when he saved me, and left it at the Sanatorium. I remember the muggle nurses all being quite puzzled as to why. I think they assumed I did some sort of manual labour, and used it to actually sweep with," James said with a laugh. "It's funny how close they were to the truth, because now I stock shelves and push a broom at the grocery."

"Not for long James," Remus said standing and taking the broom from the corner. "I'll be back with your gold tomorrow. Wish me luck?"

"I've got something better!" James said jumping up.

Lily gave him a kiss on the cheek for luck, while James ran into their bedroom and started ransacking the dresser.

"Lily! Where's my lucky jumper?"

"Which jumper is that?"

"The one you knit me for my birthday next week. You know - the one you've been hiding in the bottom drawer. The box is there but it's empty."

"James! You peeked?"

"Well didn't I warn you not to leave me alone with a box tied up with a bow? I can't resist it. But now I can't find it …" James said coming back empty handed.

"That's okay Prongs. I appreciate the offer but I don't need your birthday jumper. But I am curious as to why you wanted me to have it."

"It was a very special jumper," Lily said answering for him. "I was thinking about before we were attacked... and how often he would forget to think before he rushed into dangerous situations, and how I don't like him to get hurt. So I put a different charms on each colour of yarn, red for vitality, orange for creativity, yellow for wisdom, green for health, blue for understanding, and the purple was so that when we return, he would always come back to me in one piece."

"It sounds very lucky, and I'm honoured you would even consider loaning it to me Prongs. Thank you, your kind thoughts are all I need," Remus said giving him a warm hug and then taking the broom he took off into the night sky.

"Good luck Remus …" their voices trailed after him.

"Still want to know where my lucky jumper is ..." James commented watching him fly away.

"Probably the same place as the sofa pillow and blanket. I think I saw them under Harry's bed. Maybe he just wanted it as a security blanket. C'mon … your ice cream is melting," Lily said pulling him back inside.

Friday morning Harry feverishly finished what he hoped was his final essay. He has gotten so upset the night before that he had forgotten, but thankfully, he was down to just one inch and that was only one sentence, and he already knew what to write for it.

"So Mister… _'Krueger'… _are we about done?" Mr. Nathraichean asked impatiently drumming his long fingers on his desk as Harry scribbled the sentence down. "I should not even accept it, as the assignment was to bring it finished to class, but I cannot face another week of this."

Cosmos was right! His teacher did just want to get it over with too. Harry grinned and handed him the sheet of paper. It was a relief to know his teacher was as tired of this project as he was. In fact, every day Mr. Nathraichean had looked more tired than he had the day before. Maybe that was another reason he was so grouchy.

_Why Celebrating Saint Patrick's Day is Absurd by Harry Krueger_

"This is a promising start." Mr. Nathraichean reluctantly praised.

"Thank you Sir," Harry said politely trying not to get his hopes up that maybe something was finally going his way. He didn't exactly agree with what he wrote, but thanks to Cosmos lessons on psychology, he knew it was what the teacher wanted to read. He just prayed that Dudley and his gang would have the sense not to ask for any more Arts and Crafts projects. This one had about done him in, but with his luck - or rather lack of it, they would probably demand a project for Easter too.

_Saint Patrick's Day is really in honour of a good kind monk who lived a long time ago, and who did lots of good kind things. However, most people today think it's just a day to pretend luck exists and to drink lots of beer, and that is an absurd waste of time. _

"Finally, you have crafted a somewhat coherent sentence with which I cannot disagree," his teacher said with a note of satisfaction as he returned to the front of the class. "Now does anyone have a desire to have any more '_Arts and Crafts'_ projects? Hm? Anyone?"

The entire class froze and stared straight ahead.

"Thought not," Mr. Nathraichean said with even more satisfaction. Ah, it was wonderful feeling when he could teach a meaningful lesson. He almost started humming to himself as he started writing math equations on the blackboard.

Harry was just grateful the long tiring week was finally over, and once home he flopped down on his bed with a sigh of relief. He was looking forward to the weekend and playing with his dog. A dog who right now was demanding his attention with a wet nose pressed to his cheek.

"What is it Cosmos?" Harry asked brushing the nose away.

"You said you wanted to introduce me to your parents this weekend. If that's so, we still need to get your daddy to say yes to a dog. I think one last time ought to do it."

"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked tiredly.

"Was I right about your teacher and what he wanted?"

"Yes," Harry acknowledged.

"Then I'm right about this too," he declared with confidence. "Okay here's the last one … now we already asked for something large, something with fangs, and something with horns … so now we need something equally as large and dangerous but this time it should be a bird … Hm … bird … bird … bird … what's a dangerous vicious large bird? I know! This time ask him for a hippogriff! He won't know what it is unless he's into mythology - but that's okay, it's still perfect!"

"You said that wrong."

"I did?"

"Even I know its pronounced 'hip-po-pot-a-mus', and they're not birds. They can't fly."

"Heh-heh! Well, just for kicks let's pretend they can, and call it a 'hip-o-griff' this time. Okay?"

"But he'll think I'm a baby if I don't say it right!"

"No he won't."

"Yes he will. He'll laugh at me!"

"Pleeeeasssse? Just ask for one tiny hippogriff?"

"I don't know …" Harry hesitated.

"How about if you do this one teensy-tinesy favour for me … then I'll show you how to make his hair turn blue?"

"I already know how to do that."

"You do?" he asked admiringly. "Wasn't sure if you knew that much about magic, but I shouldn't be surprised. After all, you are my boy! You take after me. Now go ask him!"

"All right …" Harry sighed deeply giving in, knowing Cosmos was just going to keep prodding him until he did it.

"Daddy?"

"Yes Son?"

"Can I have a hip-o-gift?" he enunciated slowly.

"Did you say a … a 'hippogriff'?"

Harry just heaved the heavy well-practiced sigh, rolled his eyes, and nodded. At the pained look on his serious face, a smile started tugging at the corner of James' mouth.

"I knew I was saying it wrong! Don't laugh!" Harry pouted.

"Believe me Son - I am not laughing. But let me ask you this … do you even know what a hippogriff is?"

"… no …" Harry admitted reluctantly.

"Then where did you hear about them? Did Remus tell you about them?"

"Er ... no ... Besides, I think I was really supposed to ask for a hippopotamus ..." he hedged trying not to answer the real question.

"A hippo huh? Why on earth do you want one of those?"

"I don't …" Harry sighed again. He was getting much better at the sighing part than he was at the lying part.

"Then what is it that you really do want Son?"

"A dog …" he replied very softly.

"Did you find me one that can talk yet?" James asked jokingly and about choked when he heard an even softer 'yes' as a reply.

"You what? You did? Where? How?" James started grilling Harry, until frightened by the verbal attack he flinched and backed away. Nothing good ever happened when adults got upset like that. Taking a deep breath James slowed down and in a calm voice apologized. "I'm sorry Son. I didn't mean to scare you. I just got excited. You say you _did_ find a dog that can talk?"

"… yes Sir …" came the faint whisper. "... did I do something wrong? I-I thought a talking dog was okay ..."

"And where is this dog now?" James asked urgently.

"… under … under my bed …"

"Oh … I see." James face fell as he remembered the toe-eating monsters Harry had also claimed lived under his bed. It must just be another play for his attention. He had been very tired lately from lack of sleep and had been working a lot of double shifts trying to raise the money for Vernon. Harry must be feeling neglected.

"Come here Son," James said making room for Harry to sit with him in his chair. "You know there really isn't a talking dog under your bed, don't you?"

"Yes there is," he timidly contradicted.

"And what does this dog look like? Is it big?" James asked still harbouring a small hope that he was wrong and Harry really had somehow found Sirius alive, and that for some reason Sirius wasn't revealing himself to them.

"Er … not really _big,_ he's more on the _smallish _size," Harry evaded but justified his answer that in comparison to the other pets he had asked for, Cosmos really was quite petite. And wasn't that was the point of all the other requests? To make he seem small?

"So you're telling me, if I go in there right now and look, I'll find a small talking dog under your bed? No toe-eating monsters or rabid dust bunnies, but an honest to goodness talking dog?"

Harry just nodded and held his breath as James got up, and strode purposefully into his bedroom. Was Daddy going to make Cosmos leave?

"Harry, come here."

Reluctantly Harry did as he was told - but only as far as the doorway, keeping well out of arms reach in case his daddy was still mad.

James was down on his hands and knees reaching under the bed as far as he could. "See? There's nothing here but the sofa pillow, the blanket, and a bunch of chicken bones."

Seeing the open window Harry knew exactly where Cosmos had gone. "He left."

"Oh he did, did he?"

Harry nodded. "He doesn't like it when it's all angry and people get mad and yell and stuff."

James looked at his little boy with fresh eyes. How could he have been so blind? He and Lily hadn't been able to get much out of Harry about his treatment by his relatives, and according to Petunia and Vernon, they had been nothing but loving, but he knew that wasn't the true story. Harry must be finally talking about himself, and projecting it onto this make-believe dog, as a safe way of revealing his own feelings. Harry must still be very insecure of them as parents he thought sadly. He had to admit, that he and Lily had been fighting a lot lately, their nerves stretched to the breaking point by the stress they were under trying to placate the Dursleys, and caring for a new baby on top of that. That must be what all this dog business was about, Harry needed to feel loved and protected, and he was upset by the tension in the air.

That settled it, if Harry needed a dog to feel safe and secure, than a dog is what he was going to have. Remus should be back today with the gold from Gringotts. They would pay off Vernon, get his signature on the adoption papers, and leave. Then the first stop they were going to make was at a kennel.

"How about we get you a real dog - one that everyone can see? When your Uncle Remmy gets back were leaving, ALL of us …" he clarified remembering Harry's fear of being left behind. "Then we'll go puppy shopping at the first kennel we find and you can have your pick." James expected Harry to be overjoyed at the prospect of getting his heart's desire, so he was taken aback when instead Harry just bit his trembling lower lip and lowered his head before politely saying, "No thank you Sir."

Harry was heartbroken, he didn't want just any dog - he wanted Cosmos. Even worse was that his daddy didn't believe him that Cosmos was real.

'_Sir?'_ James thought dismayed and started to lose his patience, _'What happened to Daddy?' _It seemed when it came to Harry he was damned if he did, and damned if he didn't. He needed time to think before he said something that would drive Harry even farther away.

"Son, maybe you should stay in your room, and think my offer over carefully before you decide," James said emphasizing the 'son'.

"Yes Sir," Harry sighed as his daddy left the room, closing the door behind him. Hearing a whinge, Harry looked up to see two big grey eyes pleading with him over the sill.

"I'm not talking to you." Harry turned his back resolutely and refused to budge when he heard a thud as the big dog jumped in and a cold nose prodded him from behind.

"No! Leave me alone. You made Daddy yell at me."

"But did he say 'yes' to a dog?" Cosmos asked quietly putting his hands on Harry shoulders and turning him around to face him.

"… yes …" Harry admitted reluctantly.

"Then why are you upset? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes … no … yes I want a dog … but I don't want just any dog …I want you … and you left … _why_ did you leave?" Harry cried throwing his arms around Cosmos waist and sobbed. "Now Daddy doesn't believe me that really did find a talking dog! He thinks I made you up!"

"Oh kiddo … I'm sorry. I just didn't think it was a good idea for your daddy to see me."

"Why not?" Harry asked tearfully.

"Well, as you might have noticed I'm not exactly a normal dog, and most dads object to sharing their wardrobe with the family pet," he answered wryly.

"But my daddy wouldn't mind!" Harry protested.

"Oh yes he would. Besides, don't you like being secret pals? Kind of fun isn't it?"

"But Holly knows about you, so you're not really secret," Harry said after some consideration.

"Ah yes, but Holly knows how to keep a confidence." Cosmos laughed, picking up the child in question from her crib, and goo-googling her until she was squealing in delight.

"But Daddy said yes to a dog now, so I think Mummy and Daddy should know too," Harry persisted firmly. "Then you wouldn't have to sleep under my bed. I'm going to go tell Daddy again and_ make _him believe me, and I want you to STAY. RIGHT. HERE."

"If you must," Cosmos sighed, turning back into a dog as Harry started to leave the room. It wouldn't do at all for the muggles to see him as a man, they'd probably have him arrested for breaking and entering, and who knew what else. Probably peg him as a pervert or something. That was something he couldn't let happen, he had had his fill of prison.

Hearing voices in the living room, Harry paused at the door and opened it just wide enough to peer out with one eye. _'Better check Daddy's mood first,_' he thought. Uncle Remmy was back looking grim, and now_ both_ his Daddy and Mummy looked mad and unhappy. Maybe Cosmos was right and this wasn't the best time to introduce him. They might take back their yeses.

"I'm sorry but it didn't work Prongs. They took one look at the letter and turned it to ashes right in my hand." Remus said pacing up and down. "I was just glad that's all they turned to ash."

"But it should have worked! Did he say why they wouldn't honour it?" James pressed.

"Oh yes he did. He said that with you two being of the 'presently deceased nature', any access you granted prior to your deaths would have to be reconfirmed by the current trustee of your vaults. The only other person who has full access to your vaults, besides the trustee is …"

"Harry?"

"Yes, Harry."

"So … we're still dead as far as they're concerned." James started to pace with Remus as he thought it through. "That's actually a bit of a relief in an odd cosmic karma sort of way. Those little buggers always seemed to know everything first, so if they still think were dead, then so does everyone else. That means right now, no one's looking for us. But that just leaves Harry with access … maybe we could send him with Re- …"

"Absolutely not! Harry is not going anywhere without me," Lily cut in firmly. "They may not be looking for us, but they are looking for him, and I am not willing to risk his life. They already burned down Petunia's house. The news reports of his being 'kidnapped' caused quite enough trouble. Just imagine what they would happen if he just miraculously reappeared? Besides you're forgetting, our trustee. What about him?"

"Sirius? First of all - he's dead. Secondly - even if he weren't, we don't know where he is. Thirdly - when they incarcerated him in Azkaban, the ministry took away all his rights and named a replacement. So even if he wasn't dead, and we did know where to find him, he still wouldn't be able to get in," Remus reminded her.

"Who'd they name in his place? Did they tell you?" James asked with curiosity. "According to our will, it should have been you."

"Maybe it would have been if I hadn't been so rash about burning that message," Remus sighed and sat down. "It's the headmaster."

"We'll we certainly can't go to him! Not until we know what side he's truly on."

"Do you have doubts?"

"After finding out he was the one that left Harry with those two and never checked up on him …"

"We're just guessing at that." Lily pointed out reasonably.

"... and after finding out he just willy-nilly had an innocent man convicted without a trial …"

"Just guessing again that he was the one …"

"Maybe so, but until I know what happened, he's not exactly on my trust-him-with-my-family list. Gods! I wish it had been anybody else, even Snape would have been a better choice."

"I'm sorry," Remus apologized, "but it's too late now. So if you won't go to Dumbledore …"

"Absolutely not!" James cut in.

"And you won't let Harry go …"

"Not in a million years!" Lily steadfastly refused.

"Then long story short ... no gold."

"No gold. No signature." James added.

"No signature. No … no Harry. Vernon will take him back." Lily finished with a sob.

'… _but I- I don't want to go back ...' _Harry's stomach clenched at the thought and he quietly shut the door and sat down on the bed trying not to sick up.

"Schooch over," Cosmos told Harry, coming out from under the bed and sitting down beside him. "So what's going on? You look a little green around the gillyweed."

"Daddy and Mummy couldn't get the money for Uncle Vernon. And now I can't have parents, or a baby sister, and I haft to go back there."

"Go back where? And what does money have to do with who you can have for family?"

"Go back to live in the cupboard. Because Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia say I legally belong to them," he explained sadly. "Dudley says I'm only here 'on spec'. Daddy and Mummy were going to buy me from them, but unless they get lot of money by tomorrow, Uncle Vernon says they can't keep me any longer. Daddy and Mummy can't afford me … and-and I – I don't want to go back …" he finished with a whisper so quiet that Cosmos had to bend close to hear.

"So you really like these 'parents' of yours, and you really want to stay with them?" Cosmos asked. "Because if you don't ... you could always stay with me instead, I could take you somewhere your aunt and uncle will never find you."

"I love you Cosmos, but I love my mummy and my daddy too! I don't want to leave them, and I don't want to go back to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They don't like me very much, because I'm a … a wizard."

"There is nothing wrong with being a wizard, and you are NOT going back. Not to anyone who would sell you in the first place. That just isn't right. So we'll just have to do something about it," Cosmos said with conviction, raising Harry's hopes, but only slightly.

"But what can we do? I don't have any money," Harry said desperately.

"Oh yes you do."

"I do?"

"Oodles and gobs. While these new parents of yours don't have any money, I'm quite certain that your _real _parents did not leave you penniless. It is just a matter of getting it."

Harry thought about it carefully, Uncle Remmy did say something about him being the only one with access, whatever that meant, and they were talking about money at the time, so maybe… maybe Cosmos was right, maybe it was real. "So how do I get it?"

"Let's see, it's already Friday afternoon … think ... think … think …"

"… _coo! ..." _Holly waved her hands and feet in the air. This discussion was getting way too serious for her liking. They'd been ignoring her enough and she wanted some attention. She wanted to play with her funny doggie-man! Grabbing a hold of her plushy block, she flung it out of her crib and whacked the funny doggie-man on the side of the head.

Cosmos rewarded her excellent aim by taking her out of her crib and cuddling her while idly rolling the brightly coloured plushy block with his toes. Each side was a different colour: purple, green, red, blue, yellow and orange. Rainbow coloured - rainbows … hm … how to get the gold out of Gringotts … rainbows … gold … Gringotts … rainbows … pot's of gold at the end of the rainbow … Gringotts at the end of the rainbow … Gringotts where all the gold was …

"Holly you're brilliant!" Cosmos said blowing kisses on her tummy and making her giggle and clutch her tiny hands. "But … _ouch! ... _leggo the hair …"

"She is?" Harry asked curiously. Of course, he was of that unbiased opinion of his baby sister himself. But what was it she did to make Cosmos think so?

"Without a doubt - and she just hit me over the head with the plan to prove it. First we need …" Cosmos started to plot and plan in earnest. He was in his element when it came to intrigue and scheming, and he came by it quite honestly. He was the eldest son of the most conniving and manipulative couples the Wizarding world had ever seen - Orion and Walburga Black. And while his parent's may have thought his nonchalant attitude meant that he wasn't was paying attention to their lessons on political machinations, they would have been wrong - very, very wrong.

It took Cosmos less time than he thought it would to convince Harry that going somewhere with him, even in dog form, was the same as going somewhere with an adult. The little boy's desperation, not to lose his recently gained family, played the deciding factor in his willingness to bend the rules his parents had given him for his safety. Harry knew it was up to him to save their family. His daddy and mummy, and even Uncle Remmy, had all tried and failed. He was the only one left.

After swearing Holly to secrecy and getting her wet baby kiss to seal the deal, Cosmos boosted Harry out the window leaving behind a pile of pillows plumped to look like a sleeping boy. He stuffed in a black haired baby doll of Holly's at the last minute so the lump had a tuft of messy hair showing. It would pass for Harry as long as the glance was only cursory. If nothing else, it would certainly buy them some time.

A light but steady sprinkle replaced the ceaseless downpour as the duo made their way down the empty rain washed street towards the play park. Just as they reached it, the sun suddenly burst forth through the rain clouds lighting up the sky with a brilliant double rainbow.

Looking skyward Cosmos started chanting:

"_Double the rainbow  
doubles the luck  
'tis the time  
your bargain's struck"_

"What's that mean?" Harry asked cocking his head upward to take in the glorious sight.

"It means we'll be successful. A double rainbow at the beginning of a new adventure is an exceedingly lucky omen."

"Lucky?"

"Oh my yes, the luckiest of lucky charms."

"Mr. Nathraichean says there's no such thing as luck," Harry said dully.

"We'll just have to set that git straight when we get back with our pot of gold won't we?"

"Pot of gold?"

"Yes, at the end of the rainbow, there is always a pot of gold. You just have to be lucky enough to get there before it disappears, or ... heh-heh ... in our case before the bank closes."

"Are we going to be lucky enough?"

"Indubitably! What could be luckier than a boy with a dog?" Cosmos smirked. "You just have to follow Mr. Roy G. Biv, all the letters in the name stand for one of the colours so you can remember them in the right order: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Of course, in our case we want to find them in the reverse order, since we're at the end of the rainbow and we need to get to the beginning. Got it?"

"Got it - Mr. Roy G. Biv," Harry affirmed.

"Do you remember what I told you to do?"

"I think so, but do you really think it will work? It's not a real wand and it's all taped together. It's just a toy one. Dudley swapped one of his computer games with one of his friends for their magic kit. Aunt Petunia got mad when she saw it and broke it in half and then threw it away in the dustbin … and I- I found it …" Harry doubtfully twirled the little black stick with the white tip in his hand. Maybe he should have mentioned to Cosmos that his daddy and mummy, and Uncle Remmy all had real ones. Nah … wouldn't have mattered, they wouldn't have loaned theirs to him anyway. They keep telling him not to touch them.

"Maybe so, but we don't have a real wand." Cosmos replied, not that sure he wanted to know why Harry was looking in dustbins to begin with. "But since you found that one, it's your wand now, and since you are a wizard, that makes it a wizard's wand. That should be good enough for our purposes. So all you have to do now is believe."

"I believe… I believe…"

"That's the spirit. Now if you start to forget where to go next just think about the poem I taught you. And remember - I'll be with you the whole way. If anything happens, I'll protect you. Just stick with me whatever you do. Now for my part..." Cosmos sighed and muttered '…_I really don't want to do this_…' as he transfigured into a dog and sat patiently while Harry affixed a homemade collar and leash around his neck.

'_A patchwork of __colours bright  
follow it to end's delight'_

Harry was quite pleased with the collar. Over the past week on his way home from school, he had gathered bits of soft multicoloured leather scrapes, from the bins behind the tannery building next to their flat. Then the next day at school, he had carefully cut them into long strips during recess. It was difficult to do, as all he had to accomplish that task was a pair of old safety scissors that the school's cook had loaned to him, but he had worked at it until he succeeded.

Once that was done, he braided the rainbow patches together into a smooth circlet and hung a small tag from it that proclaimed the wearer to be 'My Dog'. It was a collar which any dog would be proud to wear. He had made it with special care, thinking that since Cosmos seemed to have come from a very dark and sad place, that he would like something bright and cheerful. Nevertheless, Cosmos was not just any dog, and it didn't matter how bright and cheery it was coloured, it was still a collar, and the minute it was in place, he started to panic.

'… _I hate this … I hate this … I hate this …' _Cosmos growled, pawing at the collar, and biting at the leash. Watching the big dog work himself into frenzy, Harry swallowed back disappointment that Cosmos didn't like his gift.

"It's okay boy, I promise to take it back off the minute we get back. But for now, it has to stay on," Harry assured him scratching behind his ears until he calmed down. "Remember, you said yourself that you can't walk around without one on in the city. People will think you're a stray."

'… _I know … I know … I know … but I still hate this … hate this … hate this …'_

Stepping to the curb Harry reached out with his toy wand and prayed for the rush of air Cosmos told him to expect, which would signal the arrival of the Night Bus. Although he had watched his Uncle Remmy summon it once before, it still came as a shock when it appeared out of thin air. With a screech of tires, the violently violet triple-decker bus swayed to a stop in front of him.

"It worked! It worked! It really worked!" Harry crowed and hugged the dog's neck, and getting an 'I told you so' lick in return.

"Where to? Hey! What?" the bus driver called out as Cosmos, trailing the dangling leash behind him, bounded onto the bus to check it out. There were few riders this afternoon, it being too early for the commuting crowd, and the few riders that were there, were all on the upper levels, leaving the lower level vacant except for the driver. This will do nicely, he thought with satisfaction, he couldn't have planned it better himself. The rainbow was being true to its luck. When he came back and nodded his furry head, Harry took a deep breath and stepped onto the scary looking violet bus… the first colour on his rainbow path.

"Er … I need to go to London Sir …"

"Is that the Tower of London, London Bridge, the London Zoo, the Port of London …?"

"… the … the inn?"

"Be that the Park Inn, the Premier Inn, the Bayswater Inn, the Tudor Inn, the…?"

"… er ... the _Indigo_ Inn?" Harry said relieved that he knew what came next for it was the hardest colour to remember.

"That'll be five sickles … each," he said looking down at the boy and the dog.

"I – I don't have any sickles Sir … but my dog – er … that is my _dad _said to j–just charge it to him." Harry stammered out the lie awkwardly knowing he wasn't good at it. At a prodding nudge of the cold wet nose added, "…and– and he said to say he'd pay double if you took me there next."

"And just who might this generous dad be?"

"Er… Sn-snape?" his voice came out in a squeak under the stress.

"Severus Snape?" the driver's eyes narrowed at the nodding black haired boy with the pale complexion. He looked like he could be related to the Hogwarts Potion's Master, which was odd, as the Professor never claimed having any relatives. However, what really struck him as peculiar was that he could almost swear the dog was laughing at him. "What's the dog name?"

"Roy… Mr. Roy G. Biv," Harry answered promptly.

"Odd name for a dog," the driver replied but he nodded them on anyway, and took off at breakneck speed. He wasn't about to turn down a doubled fare.

'_Onward now our journey's set  
on a bus of violet'_

It seemed to Harry that he had just barely got himself and Cosmos settled on top of one of the four poster beds that lined the inside of the wildly weaving bus, when they came to a screeching halt in front of a rundown hotel. A crooked sign that hung precariously from one corner proclaimed that they had arrived at the Indigo Inn.

"You sure 'bout this?" the driver asked Harry as he bravely stepped off the bus into the London drizzle.

'_A wild ride, off we go  
to the Inn of Indigo'_

"Yes Sir - this is right." Harry said with more confidence than he felt as Cosmos about pulled him off the bus by straining on the leash.

"Wait a minute … Does Professor Snape know where you are?"

"Er … I gotta go!" Harry yelled and turned on his heels, running pell-mell with Cosmos into the dilapidated inn. Once inside Cosmos pulled him behind a large moth-eaten tapestry that looked as though it had been hung as an attempt to cover-up the mould encrusted walls. The smell was overpowering, and Harry was only too glad to leave the musty hiding place when he didn't hear the footsteps of the bus driver following them.

Peeking out from behind the tapestry, Harry cautiously cased the lobby of the inn. There really wasn't much to see - only a few ratty chairs pulled up in front of a massive brick fireplace, where a pathetic fire smouldered on the grate. Between them and the chairs, was a staircase that ascended to the upper levels and the front desk - where the desk clerk, with his feet propped up on the counter, was snoring loudly with a racing form shading his eyes from the glare of the bare bulb dangling above his head. Harry motioned for Cosmos to lead the way and they tiptoed silently past the clerk, keeping low so as to not be seen above the level of the counter.

Cosmos stopped in front of a built-in bookcase next to the fireplace. The dust covering the books on the shelves testified to the fact that no one had so much as thumbed through them for at least a century. Harry shook his head in disbelief that anyone had let it pile up so thick and heavy, if Aunt Petunia had been here she would have put him to work scrubbing down every surface until every speck of dust was gone and the lobby gleamed. He was glad she wasn't here. It would take him ages!

Impatient, Cosmos nosed past him, and pawed at the only book not covered in layers of ancient grime - the second book over on the third shelf from the bottom. It was a thin volume, bound in pale blue leather, with deep blue lettering down the spine entitling it _"The Charms and Enchantments of the Blue Faeries on the Isle of Skye". _

'_There the path will show you true  
if you dare to brave the blue'  
_

The book was fixed to work as a lever, and when it tilted forward, there was a small audible 'click' that echoed through the empty lobby like a gunshot. The sound startled the clerk who sat up with a start and blinked his overly large catlike eyes. Not finding that anyone of interest had entered his establishment, he went back to his nap and immediately started snoring again.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry and Cosmos peeked from behind the chair where they had taken cover and (more carefully this time) finished pulling on the book. Once it reached a forty-five degree angle, the fireplace started to grind as the bricks re-arranged themselves into a small arched doorway.

The intrepid pair hopped over the glowing embers and slipped through the archway before the fireplace bricks closed behind them, leaving them sealed in a narrow passageway. Except for the intermittently placed sconces that danced with bluebell coloured flames, the tunnel was almost pitch-black.

Cosmos, sensing Harry's second thoughts about following the rainbow any further, started pulling him relentlessly by the leash, downward into the murky depths below street level. At the end of the winding passageway a small set of rickety stairs led up to a dingy blue door, beyond which Harry found himself in what appeared to be the backroom of a very peculiar shop.

From every nook and cranny, tiny luminescent eyes peered out of cages of all shapes and sizes. Harry couldn't quite make out what the creatures were that owned the eyes, other than their bright electric blue colour - which was evident even in the dimness of the room. He had a bad feeling about this, and just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Harry tried to backup, however the door behind him had melted into the wall and Cosmos had neglected to tell him how to open it from this side. As Cosmos just sat there on his haunches with a silly dog grin on his face, and wasn't making a move to reopen the door for him, he could only move forward. Sighing with exasperation, Harry turned towards the lighted outline of a second door on the far side of the storage room, which appeared to lead into the shop proper.

They were three quarters the way across the floor when Cosmos scratched at his collar and whinged. When he did, it was as if the room itself held its breath while all the eyes blink in unison before erupting in a cacophony of chaos. The creatures rattled their cages so hard that several toppled and broke open and Cosmos took off at a galloping lope - towing the stunned Harry behind him.

Together they slid through the doorway and underneath a display cabinet of round balls of pink and purple fluff. As they came to a breathless stop, a tall, thin, bespectacled shopkeeper, with light brown hair and warm brown twinkling eyes emerged from the front of the store. The man started shouting good-naturedly at the insane creatures swinging from the lights in the backroom to _'behave or they would be on the supper menu' _and that he would never be_ 'foolish enough again to take on a load of Cornish pixies'_.

As the shopkeeper tried to corral the pixies in the backroom, Harry raised up enough to take a closer look around. A sign over the register let him know he was in the establishment of one _'Duncan Octavias Curatoran, Purveyor of Fine Exotics: living, dead, and everything in-between. Open twenty- four- seven for your shopping convenience, or by appointment.' _

The front window of the shop was crammed with stacks of cages, which held a variety of things, mostly living, while the along the walls were glass display cases from floor to ceiling that held parts of what seemed to be the same creatures, only mostly dead. Harry wondered if the benign looking pastel balls of fluff in the case above him were part of the living, dead, or in-between merchandise, when they erased all doubt as they suddenly moved en masse to devour a large spider that had unwittingly trespassed into their space.

'… _Pygmy Puffs – two knuts each …' _he read. These must be the rabid toe-eating dust bunnies his daddy had talked about! No way did he want one of these as a pet! A dog was a _gazillion_ times better!

"C'mon - let's get out of here," Harry whispered in Cosmos' ear. The pair crept out of the shop while the shopkeeper was occupied in the back room by the rampaging pixies.

"Whew! That was close! I will never look at the colour blue the same way," Harry vowed as he huddled with his dog in a shallow recess of a brick wall. They had emerged from the shop at the very end of a narrow alley that wound past tall crooked buildings, jammed so close together that not even a breeze could squeeze between them.

"R.O.Y.G.B. … B is for blue … _check _… back up one … G … G is for green …"

'_The __colour next can be seen  
in the candles of fatal green'_

As Harry chanted the rhyme, Cosmos nodded in agreement and with ears perked for the slightest sound, he started padding down the dingy alley. He kept glued to the wall with Harry following closely behind, holding tight to end of the leash. Harry knew this part of the rainbow was up to him, as in his dog form Cosmos was colour-blind, seeing everything through a dog's limited colour spectrum - which while blue hues are quite visible, the colours from green through yellow and red all appear similar.

The alley had many twists and turns, with confusing side alleys that branched off in unexpected directions in unexpected places, so Harry had to keep a sharp eye out for the green shop window where Cosmos said he needed to turn next. Anytime there was the slightest movement in the alley, Cosmos pushed Harry into a recess, or behind, or under something, to conceal him. Travelling this way, it took a while to traverse its length unseen, the alley gradually widening as the shops lining it got larger. Harry's eyes grew as large as saucers as he came to a fork in the alley and saw a window full of bilious green poisonous candles. He had found the green! But which fork to take? What were the next lines of the poem? Oh yeah….

'_Right first, but don't be mellow  
left next at eyes of yellow'  
_

Harry shuddered when he thought of what was next on his list… giant spiders with yellow eyes. He didn't really mind spiders. He used to watch small ones catch flies in webs in his aunt's garden - he just didn't want to think about what meat the giant ones might find tasty. Ready to get this particular colour behind him, he sprinted ahead of Cosmos, found the shop called _'The Wiccan Web'. _He turned left past it as quickly as he could, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the yellow eyes were still following him, as if they had spied their next meal, and he was it.

Harry slowed to a trot to gawk over his shoulder at a window boasting shrunken heads, and ran smack into the back of the taller of two aristocratic wizards exiting a shop. Woofing for him to wait, Cosmos loped after him and caught hold of his jumper in time to pull him roughly backwards into the shadows of the mercantile, before the man had a chance to recover his balance. They needed to be careful, and he was determined to protect his precious charge. The platinum blond wizard, annoyed at the rude disruption to his day, found a target upon which to expel his anger in the form of a diminutive creature with huge round eyes and bat like ears.

"Watch where you're going Dobby!" he knocked the little creature to the ground with his silver tipped cane. "Let that be a lesson to you for touching me unbidden. Come Draco."

With a flourish of his robes, he strode quickly away from the shop, followed by a smaller version of himself who imitated the flourish and swagger to a tee. The little creature got up from where he'd fallen, locked eyes with Cosmos, and gave him a conspiratorial wink. He then ran to catch up to the tall wizard to follow submissively on his heels. Cosmos crouched protectively over the prone Harry, growling deeply with teeth bared, until the wizards were out of sight.

"What was that?" Harry whispered urgently tugging at Cosmos' collar to get his attention, until the dog stood down from his defensive stance and licked the boy's face before letting him sit up.

'… _an old friend …' _Cosmos thought fondly of the little house elf. He remembered many times in his youth when Dobby had taken the blame for his pranks to keep him out of trouble. Lucius Malfoy, the elf's master, was a distant relative by marriage, and was no doubt up to nothing good at Borgin and Burkes, an establishment that specialized in curios of dark magic.

Rumours had flown around Azkaban at Christmas, attributing the attack on Harry's relatives to Malfoy, but for now, revenge was the least of Cosmos concerns. Getting Harry to Gringott's before it closed however was, and it was getting late. The sun was about to sink below the roofs of the building throwing Knockturn Alley into even deeper shadows than normal. That would mean Diagon Alley should be darkening as well. However, that would be to their advantage.

Their next marker on the path was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, with its outdoor seating dotted by bright orange striped umbrellas. It was near the corner where Knockturn Alley met Diagon Alley. It was the perfect place to stop, take stock, and plot their next move. Cosmos' loosely thrown together plan at this point, once they got to the main thoroughfare, was to hide Harry in plain sight. Who would pay attention to a boy and his dog eating ice cream?

'_Beneath umbrellas of orange  
we wait till fate can arrange,_

_all eyes to watch away instead  
while we pass the guards in red'_

Pressing Harry between his body and the brick buildings, Cosmos herded him toward the corner across from the bank and then to an outdoor table. Harry's jaw dropped open in awe as the sun setting through the misty rain caused the gleaming snow-white marble of the imposing looking bank building to be crowned by a vivid double rainbow - a twin to the one at the start of their journey. At the base of the columns, a pair of scarlet clad sentries guarded an imposing set of bronze doors. The guards in red! Cosmos was right! They had found the end of the rainbow!

"Hiya, Son. Why don't you sit inside? Lot's warmer and a tad drier." The friendly waiter invited the soggy child whose wet hair was plastered down covering most of his face. Because of the damp persistent rain and the lateness of the hour, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was nearly deserted, so a new customer got immediate attention.

"Er … no thank you Sir." Harry replied politely, getting ready to lie through his teeth. "I'm… er… I'm meeting my dad and he said to wait outside."

"Ah, been shopping have you?"

"Um … yes … my dad said if I got here first to ... uh ... go ahead and order and charge it to him."

"All righty-o, but you don't look familiar … whose tab does this go on?"

"Er … Snape …_ Severus _Snape," Harry was proud he didn't stumble over it this time. He was getting quite proficient at lying.

"Thought the Professor was a bachelor. Never mentioned family," the waiter said suspiciously.

'… _I hadn't thought of that …' _Cosmos could have smacked himself _'… stupid greasy git … never getting on with his life …'_

"I'm … I'm adopted …" Harry said quietly and hung his head, but not before letting out one of his well practiced sighs and blinking real hard until he squeeze out a tear to run noticeably down his cheek. His acting didn't work on his daddy and mummy, but maybe it would on this waiter. "…er ... recently," he tacked on wisely just to make sure there would be no more questions.

"Oh sorry, didn't mean to pry," the waiter hurriedly apologized for upsetting the lad. He could understand his angst - anyone recently adopted by the exacting Potion's Master was apt to be distraught about it. He wasn't the friendliest fellow in the world, but he was a regular customer every Sunday morning for a large black coffee, extra bitter. Wouldn't do to tick him off, he was about the only one who could stomach the strong brew. "How about a couple of burgers then?"

"…and- and chips?" Harry asked hopefully. Cosmos liked chips.

"Sure - and chips. Coming right up." The waiter said disappearing inside.

"What do we do now?" Harry whispered to Cosmos who was sitting under the table where it was dry. Cosmos surveyed up and down the street. This was the sticky part of his plan. Rain was lucky and unlucky at the same time, it had chased all but the heartiest of possible witnesses inside, but the sparse crowd remaining did not leave much to work with to create their diversion.

"Here ya go." The waiter said returning with a plate containing two steaming hot burgers and a pile of golden chips. "Don't mean to rush you, but we're closing in about five."

"Okay," Harry bit into one of the burgers and held the other under the table for Cosmos. He hadn't realized just how hungry following a rainbow could make a boy!

Between them, it took less than two minutes for the entire meal to vanish, and another two for Cosmos to spy their opportunity. Lucius Malfoy and his son were just leaving Gringotts, and up the pavement from the opposite direction were coming an entire herd of ginger haired Weasleys! While the two families were distantly related, through a network of marriages and liaisons, the Malfoys and Weasleys tended to get along like TNT and matches. It was perfect! They didn't need to make a diversion - it was going to make itself! Sure enough, less than sixty seconds later, a loud verbal altercation broke out on the polished steps of Gringotts. It drew the scarlet-coated guards from their positions to dispense the ruckus.

'… _wait for it … wait for it …'_

Cosmos watched intently as the few remaining customers poured out the doors and added themselves to the crowd watching the fracas with interest.

'… _NOW! ... RUN! ...'_

Cosmos pulled Harry across the street, up the steps, and through the doors. Good! They made it unseen! Now for the gold… With Cosmos' leash in hand, Harry timidly tiptoed across the small foyer and peeked through the silver doors into the central hall of Gringotts. The polished marble floor seems to go on forever and the counters loomed impossibly high. On both sides, short odd looking men were hopping down off from their tall stools, closing ledgers, and locking doors as a clock chimed out six longs bongs, signalling the end of the banking day.

Harry's face fell. They were too late. The rush of adrenaline that had buoyed him up just seconds ago as they slipped past the guards, left him sagging hopelessly, as he slid down the wall and disintegrated into a sobbing heap of disappointed boy. Cosmos whined and licked at his face. Didn't he know this was part of the plan? As long as he got through the doors before they were locked, the Goblins would help him.

Cosmos had timed it that way to ensure that there would be no other customers in Gringott other than Harry. He just had to be brave and show them he was there. Cosmos refused to let him quit and nudged at him until he got back up on his feet and wiped the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Okay … but you better be right about this," Harry warned him as he took a step forward. The sound of his footstep, though small, seemed to echo for an eternity in the huge chamber getting louder with each ricochet. The goblins ceased their activities at once and peered as one down their long noses at the small human child and his dog, both dripping on the pristine floors of their revered establishment. It seemed as if they had one final client to serve.

The goblin nearest to the boy, who also appeared to be the oldest among them, motioned for him to come nearer, and when he did, the goblin scrutinized him carefully from head to toe and then signalled the others that he would dispense with whatever their client needed done and that they could leave. As soon as the hall was completely empty, save for one boy, one dog, and one goblin, the goblin hopped down from his stool and moved slowly until he was in front of the obviously frightened boy.

"I am Bogrod," the goblin bowed. "How may I be of service to you today, Mr. Potter?"

"You – you know my name?" Harry asked startled.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. We have been expecting you for quite some time."

"You – you have?"

"Yes. However we were not expecting Mr. Black to be accompanying you."

"… w-who?"

"Mr. Black," the goblin reiterated with a nod towards the boy's dog.

"Oh that's not his name! His name is 'Mr. Roy G. Biv', but I call him Cosmos. He's my dog. He's got a tag and everything!" Harry said proudly patting Cosmos on the head, whereupon the dog just wagged his tail and lolled his slobbery tongue comically at the little goblin.

"Indeed," Bogrod said slowly looking down his long nose at the mutt. The dog shook himself all over and wagged his tail, showering the goblin with a sprinkling of raindrops. He was hopeful that the goblin would honour his secret. He was risking a lot coming here, if the Aurors carted him back to Azkaban, Harry would be left defenceless in the middle of a world he didn't fully understand. The Goblin, seeming to sense the sensitivity of the situation, didn't press the identification and turned to address Harry. "I assume you are here to make a withdrawal then?"

"Yes Sir, please if I may," Harry answered politely, hoping there really was a pot of gold.

"Do you have your key Mr. Potter?"

"Key?"

"Yes, your key."

"… no … I don't have a key … except for … except for this one," he said taking off the key to the front door of their flat that he carried strung on a string around his neck. He held the large dull metal key out on the palm of his hand for the goblin to see. "Daddy gave it to me." Bogrod passed his hand once over the boy's outstretched palm causing a small iridescent bubble to drift up and hover in the air above it. Bogrod touched the fragile bubble with a long yellow fingernail, and with a *pop* it burst.

"What was that?" Harry asked in amazement.

"There was a small tracking spell on your key that I dispensed of, can't have that sort of thing in here can we? Client privacy rules and all. Don't you agree Sir? Unless… you _want_ someone to know you're here…"

"Oh no!" Harry breathed. His eyes grew round, thinking about how mad his daddy would be if he tried to play his hide-and-seek game right now, and then couldn't find him.

"I thought as much." Then with his long spindly fingers, the goblin reached out and plucked a small golden key from Harry's still outstretched palm.

"Where did that come from?" Harry asked awed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers.

"From your heart. A duplicate key can only be made by the rightful owner of the vault and only then from the purest of intentions," the goblin replied cryptically before turning and walking slowly away with an order to 'Follow me'.

'_I knew they'd help! And people say goblins have no souls ...' _Cosmos thought smugly tucking his tail into the little cart and the trio set off down the long roller coaster path to the Potter vault. Opening the vault Harry stepped in and his jaw dropped open. There were piles upon piles of little bronze, silver, and gold coins. Upon closer inspection, he started to tear up again. This was just play money! It wasn't real. All this work for nothing…

"What is wrong Mr. Potter? Is everything not in order?" Bogrod asked with concern, the Potters were long time clients. It would not do to have them unhappy with the service.

"I need some _real_ money… _real _bad… and this is all phony," Harry tried to explain.

"I can assure you it is quite real." Taking a long look at the boy's clothes, Bogrod wisely guessed, "But perhaps you are in need of having it converted into muggle currency?"

"Oh yes! Please!" Harry said gratefully.

"How much do you desire?"

"… I-I don't know … a- a lot?" he stammered as tear sprung back to his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you need it for, and perhaps I can help you decide the amount," the goblin offered, disturbed by how distraught his young client was becoming. Besides, if it would keep Mr. Black from trying to lick his hand every chance he got it would be well worth the effort. In any form, Sirius Black had always been irritating.

The goblin didn't tower over Harry in height, as adults generally did, so he didn't feel intimidated at all. And his offer, however businesslike it was intended, made Harry very relieved so the normally shy boy started to pour his heart out. He told the goblin all about his aunt and uncle, and about how his daddy and mummy needed money to buy him from them so they could be a family forever. He told him all about what Uncle Vernon had wanted, the house, the new cars, the pool, the sauna, the vacation homes, and how his daddy and uncle had tried to get the money but couldn't. Finally, he told him about how Cosmos had helped him follow the rainbow to his pot of gold, and about all the colours that he had seen on the way.

"But there is one thing I don't understand about the rainbow …" Harry finished, suddenly reticent about asking a question that had been bothering him ever since they sat down at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

"And what is that?" Bogrod asked.

"Why are you wearing red coats?"

"What?"

"Red coats … I thought leprechauns always wore green," Harry asked innocently.

Bogrod was at a loss for words,_ 'Leprechauns? He thinks were vile little leprechauns?'_

He was about to unleash a goblin's wrath upon the boy's unwitting head for the insult until he saw the naive look in his eyes. _'The child is obviously undereducated about the magical world. May Gringott himself not strike me down for this ...' _"Our green coats are at the cleaners."

"Oh," Harry smiled, happy to have the mystery solved. That made sense.

"I think I have a good understanding of how much you require, so let us finish your transaction." Bogrod filled a bag with golden galleons before accompanying his client and his 'dog' back to the main hall where he exchanged it for a stack of muggle money. "This should be sufficient for your purposes Sir. I exchanged it at the advantageous rate of five pounds to the galleon. If you would just sign here," Bogrod said holding out a quill and waiting patiently while Harry carefully wrote his name in cursive lettering on the line.

"Thank you Sir," Harry said as he picked up the bills and started cramming them into the sack in which Bogrod had carried the coins. "May I ask you another question?"

"Yes you may," the goblin replied, albeit reluctantly considering the last question.

"You're a leprechaun and all, so I figure if _anybody_ would _really _know you would," Harry started in a round-a-bout way. "My teacher says that there is no such thing as luck, and well … he's a teacher so he should know. But my dog … he says there is. But then my uncle and aunt say magic and luck and all that stuff is codswallop and hooey. But my _other_ uncle said that isn't true at all. And my daddy said he used to believe in luck but he doesn't anymore, and my mummy said that was just sad that he didn't… so is there?"

"Is there what?" Bogrod asked completely mystified by the little boy's rambling question.

"Is there such a thing as luck?"

"Oh yes Mr. Potter, luck does exist. However, the thing to remember about luck is that it fickle… it can go either way. Good or bad."

"Then how can you be sure to have only good luck?"

"You can't. If you put all your faith in luck itself, you have to take your chances with the outcome. I find that putting your faith in your own abilities is the wiser path."

Harry had a lot to think about as he and Cosmos retraced the rainbow path towards home, dodging a few loose pixies on the way. Maybe mixed into all those big words of Mr. Nathraichean's, that was what he had said too. Maybe he owed him an apology. Just past midnight, Cosmos licked Harry's face frantically to wake the sleepy boy as the Night Bus came to a whiplash stop in front of the deserted play park. Tumbling off the bed, Harry rubbed his eyes, and stumbled to the front to offer the driver a bill from his sack.

"Nah … already charged your old man for the return trip … triple this time!" the driver laughed as he dumped the boy and dog on the curb and took off.

"Whoever this Snape man is, I hope he doesn't get mad at me ... oh well," Harry shrugged it off. "We better get home boy. It's really, really, late! It's probably tomorrow already! We need to get back before they noticed I left." Harry picked up the sack and swinging it over his shoulder, he headed whistling down the pavement.

'… _do I care? I think not! ... Snivellus you best beware … or Padfoot will wash your hair… nah-na-na-nah-na…' _Cosmos singsonged in his head as he pranced along with head and tail head high, Harry skipping cheerfully beside him with his big bag of money. It was Saint Patrick's Day, his thirtieth birthday, and he was a lucky, lucky dog! A lucky dog who owned a happy boy!

'_Then back home we're off to spend  
pots o' gold from rainbow's end'_

As they approached the flat, Harry stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed a hold of Cosmos' collar. The building was lit up from top to bottom and he could hear his daddy and Uncle Vernon shouting loudly from the top floor.

"**I won't ask you again Vernon… WHERE. IS. HE?"**

"**I don't know and it's not my fault that you keep losing the little brat!"**

"**GIVE HIM BACK!"**

"**How many times do I have to tell you? I. DIDN'T. TAKE. HIM. Why don't you just do that thingamagiggy you did last time, and find him for yourself?"**

"**Because it's not working!"**

"**Ha! All your freakish mumbo-jumbo isn't so great now is it?"**

"… uh oh … I think Daddy noticed …"

"… woof … woof …"Cosmos said in agreement.

"Do you think it's too late to sneak in anyway?" Harry asked hopefully.

"… Woof! …" _'… it never hurts to try! ...' _Cosmos thought optimistically. He led the way around to the back of the building and stood under the window, so Harry could step on his back as a ladder to gain entrance. Jumping through the window after him, he decided it was best to stay as a dog, at least until the muggles calmed down. He had learned during his Hogwarts years that it was best to avoid rampaging out-of-control muggles, and over protective fathers - both of which seemed to currently describe Harry's 'daddy'.

After tumbling over the windowsill, Harry stood up and brushed himself off while Cosmos cleared the sill in one graceful leap. They were back, but oh boy - was he in trouble! He knew that just by taking one quick look at his bed where 'pillow-Harry' had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor and the blankets left askew.

"… _coo! ... ree! ... ree! ..."_ Holly waved hallo from her crib _"… you're back! And you brought my funny doggie-man! ... kama! ..."_

"Hi Holly," Harry said picking her up and sitting down cross-legged in the centre of the rug with her on his lap. "I think I'm in trouble. What do you think?"

"… _coo! ... goo! ... goo! ..." _Holly gurgled. She was just glad her big brother was back. She didn't like it when he left for very long.

"You stay here with Cosmos Holly, and Cosmos you stay with Holly. I better get this over with," Harry sighed reluctantly standing up and squaring his shoulders. He hadn't heard Daddy this mad since Valentine's Day.

He opened the door a tiny bit, and with one eye to the crack, looked out into the living room. Mummy was crying on the sofa. Uncle Remmy was pacing a hole in the rug. And Daddy was stomping furiously in the front door.

**SLAM!**

Harry jumped as James stormed in and slammed the door behind him.

"The sot _claims_ he doesn't know where he is."

"We heard. Are you ready to consider the possibility that he left on his own? Vernon wouldn't have bothered to make his bed look like he was still in it. Neither would have a Death Eater," Remus pointed out what James and Lily refused to acknowledge.

"But why would he run away? I thought he was ha-happy…" Lily started to sniffle.

"He ran away once before," Remus reminded her. "And it wasn't because he was unhappy," he added gently, "it was because he thought you didn't have room for him."

"But we have the larger flat now!" James said angrily.

"We did tell him we didn't have room for a dog," Lily remembered guiltily.

"But I told him that we'd get him a puppy instead. That can't be it!"

"I'm not saying it is and I'm not saying it isn't," Remus said trying to reason with him. "What I am saying is that maybe he heard something else he misunderstood, as he did last time."

"But if it wasn't the dog … what else could it have been?" Lily hiccupped.

"We've been talking a lot lately about the money Vernon wants. Maybe …" Remus shrugged leaving the rest implied.

"But we never discussed that when he was in the room! He doesn't know anything about it!" James said, flatly denying the possibility.

"You're still too used to living in mansions with thick walls and a lot of privacy. You may have the larger flat, but it's not _that_ large, and it's not soundproof. Little boys have very big ears."

"I can't even think! I just want to hex something! I don't understand how you can stand there being so calm and reasonable about this!" James snarled, shooting hexes indiscriminately at inanimate objects to release his frustration. "I don't care what the reason is, he's still missing!"

"Is he? Are you sure about that?" Remus asked raising his eyebrows and nodding towards the cracked opened door where one brilliant green eye peered out.

"**Young man! Get out here! NOW!"** James thundered as Harry's door slammed shut.

"James! You've frightened him!" Lily admonished.

"No more than he frightened me!" James declared striding over to the door and pounding on it.

"One!" He started counting.

The door didn't budge.

"Two!" He started feeling ridiculous.

The door cracked open.

"Three!" He started to regret yelling.

A small body hurled itself at James and hugged him sobbing around the waist.

"I'm sorry Daddy … I'm s'rry … I'm s'rry … I'm s'rry ..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay Son. It's okay now," James assured him picking him up, and sitting down in the big wooden rocker with Harry in his arms. He started rubbing calming circles on his back. "I'm not mad at you. You're in big trouble mind you, but I'm not mad. I was just upset because your mummy was scared when we didn't know where you were and we couldn't find you. You must never EVER leave again without telling us. NEVER scare your mummy like that again."

"I'm sorry Mummy," Harry apologized quietly, his sobs turning into hiccups.

"Where did you go?" James questioned him. "We were so worried."

"I was following the rainbow Daddy."

"The rainbow?"

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded.

"But it was dark out, there weren't any rainbows ..."

"There was when I started ... and I had to follow it so I could find the leprechauns."

"I should have thought of that." James was angry and amused, at the same time. Aha! Remus was wrong - Harry wasn't worried about the money Vernon wanted. That meant it wasn't his fault this time. It still begged the question… "But why were you looking for leprechauns?"

"So I could ask them for a pot of gold," Harry answered back.

"Why did you want a pot of gold?"

"So you could buy me…"

"_Buy_ you? But we're not going to buy you. You're not for sale Son…" James said confused.

"Please don't make me go back!" Harry flung his arms fiercely around his daddy's neck.

"But you're not going anywhere…"

"Yes I am! I heard you and Mummy talking. You said you needed gold for Uncle Vernon or he was going to take me back! I don't want to go back! I want to stay with you and Mummy! I wanted the gold so you could buy me and I could be your real son!"

Remus _was_ right, James thought kicking himself mentally. He should have been in Ravenclaw, the bloody know-it-all. "We would never that happen - no matter what. Don't you know you are already our 'real' son? Nothing and nobody can change that. You're stuck with us."

"Not even Uncle Vernon?"

"Not even Vernon. He's just being more of an annoying pain than usual, and making things incredibly difficult, but even he can't change the fact that you are ours."

"For- forever?"

"Forever and ever," James affirmed hugging him tightly.

"I guess you don't want the money then," Harry sighed deeply thinking about all the work he'd gone through to get it, and the all the lies he had to tell. He sighed again, loudly. He was getting really good at sighing he thought with some satisfaction, all that practicing had paid off.

"Um … what money is that Son?"

"The bag of money I got from the leprechauns."

"I thought they had pots of gold," Remus chuckled correcting him.

"Oh they do! Lots of them. I saw stacks of them taller than me," Harry said seriously. "But I asked the leprechaun to exchange mine for real money so Uncle Vernon would be happy."

"You what?"

"I exchanged it - at the advantageous rate of five pounds to the galleon," Harry quoted Bogrod while opening the sack of money he still had clutched in his hand and upending it over his head, he let the bills rain down. Breaking the stunned silence Harry finally asked, "Daddy, what's 'advantageous'?"

"Harry …? Son …? Where - where did you say you went again?"

"Like I said … to see the leprechauns."

"And where were these leprechauns?"

"At the end of the rainbow," Harry said patiently rolling his eyes. He was sure he'd already explained that.

"Okay … got that, but just _where_ was the end of the rainbow?"

"Gringotts."

"Gringotts? In London?" Lily gasped. **"YOU. WENT. TO. LONDON. BY. YOURSELF?"**

"…uh oh…" now Mummy was mad at him too.

"You could be lying in a ditch somewhere! You could have been kidnapped! You could have been killed!" Lily lectured him, just starting to warm up. "You promised me! You promised to never go anywhere without an adult with you! You are grounded!"

Harry looked back and forth from his mummy to his daddy with big pleading eyes.

"Don't look at me champ - I can't get you out of this one." The revelation floored James. "But before you're grounded for life, explain more about Gringotts. How _did_ you get there?"

"Cosmos told me how, _and_ he went with me too. So I _didn't_ go by myself!" Harry defended himself. "Not really anyway, he's kind of like an adult ... sometimes …"

"Who is this 'kind-of-like-an-adult' Cosmos?" Remus asked suspiciously. Whoever it was, he had to be a wizard to know about Gringotts. However, who was it, and what was his motive?

"My dog …" Harry admitted.

"Your dog? The imaginary one you said could talk?" James questioned.

"... uh-huh …" Harry nodded. "That's the one. But he's not imaginary..."

"He's real?" James asked to clarify.

"Just as real as the toe-eating dust bunnies … Daddy, I saw them! And you were so wrong - a dog is much better! Please can I keep him? He's not a puppy, but can I keep him anyway? You said I could if he could talk, and I won't ask for anything else ever again!" Harry begged.

"And where is this Cosmos now?"

"Babysitting Holly," Harry said confidently. "She likes him too."

"Holly? My baby!" Lily gasped and started for the bedroom, when the door swung open a little wider and a cold wet nose followed by two large grey eyes all encased in a black furry face peeked through the crack.

Lily backed up a step at the sight. Although he was practically a walking skeleton, he was still huge and dangerous looking, and he had her baby dangling from his sharp teeth in a blanket sling. Carrying the cooing baby, Cosmos walked with as much dignity as he could muster into the centre of the room and deposited her with care at Lily's feet.

'… _don't mind me folks ... I'm only here to get rid of the squirmy nuisance and then I'm out of here ... I'm obviously not needed since Harry isn't living with muggles after all ... No, he's living with all you two-faced bloody deserters that left me to rot in Azkaban ... No, I'm not sticking around, no-siree-bob ... Not me ... No way ... No how …'_

"… _kama! …" _Holly cooed clutching at Cosmos with her tiny hands. Whereupon he promptly trotted back into the bedroom, returning with her pacifier which he dropped neatly in her mouth.

'… _well, the kid needed it! ... and you idiots weren't paying any attention to her...'_ he defended his actions to himself_ '… but now I'm out of here ... I am NOT a babysitter … I have my pride …' _

"'Kama' is what Holly calls Cosmos. She likes it when he looks after her in the middle of the night," Harry matter-of-factly informed the astonished adults, who by this time were all standing with their mouths hanging open, but making no sound. Harry then went over to kneel by his reluctant dog. Throwing an arm around him asked, "… isn't he just perfect? Isn't he just the greatest dog in the whole wide world? So … can I keep him?"

'… _hrumph! ... keep ME? ... we already discussed this ... what makes you think I want to be kept? ... while all of you sleep in your comfy warm beds and leave me to sleeping in alleys and eating out of trash bins ... you've got to be kidding … you even treat the dust bunnies better ...'_

"And he can talk! Really, he can! Can't you show them? Please show them?" Harry pleaded with Cosmos trying his best to convince his stunned parents not to throw his dog out of the flat.

'…_there is no way on earth I'm going to transfigure back into human form in front of that bunch of traitors ... what for? ... so they can jeer at me because I haven't had a decent shower or a shave in a week ... and before that – not for eight years? ... not that a blasted one of them cares a whit ... besides I'm wearing James' birthday jumper ... he might object…'_

"… _kama! ... kama! ... kama! ..."_ Holly demanded of her funny doggie-man, she wanted him to pick her up! Why wasn't he picking her up? She was being her very cutest and he wasn't even paying any attention! Waving her arms and legs in the air and finally getting managing to get a hold of some of Cosmos fur in her tight little fists she grinned and chanted _"…ah-be-o ka-ma!..." _and used her baby magic to transform Sirius against his will.

"Why you little bugger!" Cosmos pried her tiny fingers from his hair. "See what you did?"

"_... kama! ..." _Holly gurgled happily at her funny doggie-man and held her arms out to him. Now that he had arms he could pick her up, she giggled gleefully.

"Don't you try sweet talking me you little turncoat blabbermouth! You promised to keep my secret," Cosmos tried to sound stern but picked her up and cuddled her anyway.

"Sirius?" Remus asked taking a step forward toward the emaciated man with the hollow sunken eyes. "Is that really you? You're alive? The dementors said ... we thought you were dead …"

"Obviously you were slightly misinformed." Sirius sniffed, not mollified in the least.

"But how…?" James started.

"How what?" he barked back angrily. "How come I didn't just roll over and die for you? How come I protected your son, when you were too preoccupied to bother? How come … how come you never came for … me?" he finished in a pained whisper sinking down to his knees.

"Oh Sirius!" Lily cried rushing over to hug him. "We didn't know. Believe me, we didn't know. We were both in comas for so long from our injuries that we just didn't know what had happened to you. When you didn't come back to us, we first thought Voldemort had killed you…"

James moved behind Sirius and put his hands on his old friend's shaking shoulders.

"That's right Sirius - we didn't know what happened until we found Remus again a month ago. When I found out that they convicted you and threw you in Azkaban, I tried to find a way to get you out, but all the newspaper reports I found said you had drown trying to escape. The dementors claimed they found your body and buried you in an unmarked grave. We thought we were too late. We would have never have left you in Azkaban. Never! We love you too much."

"But Remus - you knew I was innocent! I told you. Yet, you left me there? For eight years? Didn't you believe me?" He raised his grey accusatory eyes to meet Remus' sorrow filled ones.

"They locked you up before I even knew you'd been arrested, and once you were in prison, they wouldn't listen, and they wouldn't let me talk to you. I knew the only way to clear you and get you out, was to find James and Lily alive somewhere so I went searching for them, but I couldn't find them. I only found them by accident just last month. And by then, all the reports said you were already… gone."

"But I told you where they were! Didn't I? I'm sure I told someone…" Sirius suddenly doubted himself as the scenes of that night started running through his head clearly for the first time in years. In Azkaban, the dementors had forced him to relive them often, but he knew he was innocent. When his memories failed to feed their hunger for despair, they substituted a version of their own, one in which he was responsible for killing his friends himself. Nevertheless, in the back of his mind, he knew the images were false. That was when he started transfiguring into his animagus form, to escape their torment and salvage what little sanity he had left.

"No, you didn't tell me," Remus shook his head sadly. "I had no idea where to start looking."

"Oh wow … I really should have done that..." Sirius said in a serious understatement.

"Oh you!" Lily laughed and flung herself on him again, unmindful of his gaunt state, just glad they had found him, and that he was alive and well. Make that 'not-so-well' but she would take care of with lots of homemade chicken soup.

"By the way … nice jumper Padfoot, it goes well with your um … collar. That's quite the fashion statement - you ought to keep it," James teased as he added his hug to the mix.

"Does this mean I get to keep him? For my very own?" Harry squealed in the high pitch that only small children can reach. He'd been holding his breath for a VERY long time.

"The tag does say 'My Dog', but if you don't mind sharing, I think we would _all _like to keep him. Rainbow coloured patchwork collar and all," James pulled Harry into the group hug as they surrounded the broken man with loving arms and started him on the path to healing.

Everything was perfect. They had found their lost family member and they now had the money to buy off Vernon, so they could return to wizarding world and straighten everything out. Soon everyone would know that Sirius was an innocent man. In the meantime, his spirit was finally free because he was back where he belonged.

And they were going to make sure he stayed there.

For Sirius had come home.

~fin~


	5. A Patchwork of Fools

**A Patchwork of Fools**

Disclaimer: I don't own JKR's Harry Potter, or anything else.

Author: written by DracaDelirus, typed and posted by Mrs. Arabella Doreen Figg

Dedication: This one is especially for Doc for everything. And as always, for my very wonderful friend swanpride. Thank you again for all your encouragement, friendship, and advice. I only hope to someday to be half as good at writing as you. (Haha! Maybe when I learn to say things in half the number of words!) And for my friends Charlie-becks and B00kw0rm92. And also for annajesse65230 who thought it would be fun to prank Severus for an April Fool's Day story. I started out making a Severus Easter story, but to get from Saint Patrick's Day to Easter you have to travel smack through the middle of April Fools Day, and annajesse65230 had so many good ideas that just wouldn't let go of me that they finally took on a story of their own (well kind of… you will see what I mean if you read on). Apologies for being such a poky writer. Would say sorry for it not being April any more, but instead I will just say Haha! August Fools!

_Loof Lirpa Na_

_I wish for you wit, laughter, and mirth  
Though they may not seem gifts of great worth  
But these things give your aura a glow  
To change your world in ways you may never know_

_They give you strength, at yourself to laugh  
Lighting your way down life's rocky path  
They keep you away from the 'pit of doom'  
By banishing all thoughts of despair and gloom_

_They light you up from the inside out  
A force of its own, without a doubt  
It doesn't stop there for merriment spreads  
Pulling in others with invisible threads_

_A giggle here and a smile there  
Is all that it takes, your joy to share  
From person to person so on it grows  
A powerful virus that none can oppose_

_There's no cure but it's no tragedy  
For laughter is its own remedy  
So don't you worry and don't you weep  
For the more you give away, the more you keep_

_- Nuf Evah! -  
SuriledAcard_

**Patchwork of fools Patchwork of foolsloof fo krowhctaP sloof fo krowhctaP**

"Ugh! Gerroff me!" Harry's muffled shouts could be heard coming from underneath the hulking lump that was his cousin Dudley. His cousin had already gobbled his chicken sandwich, slurped up his thermos of cold milk, scarfed down his chewy chocolate chip biscuits, and was now opening his insatiable maw to take a big bite out of Harry's large juicy red apple.

NO! Not his apple too! That was the last straw!

His mummy said she had picked it out special just for him. After his daddy and uncles had played a rousing game of 'keep-away' with it (by floating it over his head at the breakfast table), she had kissed it before polishing it and putting it in his lunch sack. She said that way, when he ate his lunch, he would remember that she loved him!

Harry tried to grab the apple back but he couldn't reach it. Frustrated, he then tried to shove his cousin off, but Dudley didn't budge a millimetre.

Instead, Dudley just grinned and showed off for his friends by swatting the struggling Harry on the head, before proceeding to ignore him again in favour of devouring the last of his freaky little cousin's lunch. To him, Harry was just the same as a pesky fly. Buzzing about annoyingly and making much ado about nothing.

"Yuck! Gross! There's a worm in this apple!" Dudley shuddered and spit out the bite of apple, hitting Harry in the cheek with it.

"Cut it out!" Harry yelled back wiping at the half-chewed glob.

"You cut it out! What are you trying to do - poison me?" he raged accusingly.

"I SAID GET OFF ME NOW!" Harry yelled with renewed determination.

As Dudley swung his meaty arm up to toss the apple away, Harry employed the laws of physics and shoved upward on his cousin's elbow with all his might. At the same time, he rolled over in the same direction onto his hands and knees. The unexpected added momentum caused the larger boy to topple off from him and tumble smack into the sticker weeds at the edge of the playground.

'_Hey! The wrestling move my godfathers taught me actually worked!'_

Harry scrambled up to his feet and wiped Dudley's spit off his face. Exceedingly pleased with himself he tacked on the obligatory idle threat.

"AND STAY OFF OR ELSE!"

"Or else_ what_ freak? Just what'd ya think you're gonna do?" Dudley snorted derisively as he tried to ignore the stickers digging into his tender palms, and the equally irritating prodding of his gang, who were starting up the quintessential schoolyard chant.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Dudley reacted slowly. Harry was becoming bolder now that he had his own family and one thing Dudley was not going to do, was to get into a position where he could lose face. He knew what his freaky little cousin could do if he pushed him over the edge, but he was confident he could get away with goading him without worrying about reprisal.

He knew his Auntie Lily would get upset if Harry used any magic against him. In fact he had overheard her (by eavesdropping via a spy hole he drilled in the floor) remind Harry – _several times_ – that he shouldn't, and his cousin was well aware that Dudley wouldn't hesitate for a second to tattle on him if he did. In addition, Dudley knew that Harry was terrified of 'goofing up' with his new parents. He wasn't about to do anything they told him not to do, and without magic – _shrug_ – Harry simply wasn't that much of a threat.

Dudley sneered at his skinny cousin standing in front of him with his fists up, trying to look intimidating. If Harry thought he could get away with an 'or else', without the reputation to back it up, then his stupid cousin was sadly mistaken. Being a successful bully took a lot of painstaking effort and groundwork. You couldn't just jump into it willy-nilly. He should know, he'd put most of his efforts into building up his status as one.

When Dudley first started school, he began comparing himself to the other children. It was then he became uncomfortably aware of the fact that he wasn't nearly as good at everything as his mum and dad had always boasted. After that epiphany, it didn't take much more thought for him to realize that with all the practice he'd had growing up with Harry that he did excel at one thing he really enjoyed doing - being a bully.

Hitting things was the one thing he truly loved to do, which is why so many of his toys lasted only a matter of a few days. Beyond that, he abhorred anything that looked, sounded, or felt like work. However, in the case of being a bully, he decided to put forth the effort. In a rare flash of insight, he had figured out that once he built his reputation, all he had to do then was a little careful maintenance. Once he had the rep, everything else he could make someone else do for him. As his dad always said, find your niche and stick with it, and you'll always succeed.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Or else I'll … or else … I'll …" Harry stammered, he hadn't expected Dudley to call him on it and he had no clue what to say next. After all he had never gotten this far before.

"Fighting are we Mister…_'Krueger'?_ Well finish it … or else you will do what?" A firm low voice from behind him inquired silkily. "I too am utterly spellbound, as I await your witty riposte."

Harry looked over his shoulder to see the circle of boys parting to admit his tall, dark, and forbidding looking teacher. Ever since his disastrous St. Patrick's Day essay, he had been successful in avoiding Mr. Nathraichean's attention.

Harry sighed in resignation. For one brief golden moment, he thought he had finally trumped his cousin. However, the derisive tone of his teacher's voice, and the look of triumph on his cousin's face, left no doubt in his mind that Dudley had just won - again.

"Er … or nothing, Mr. Nathraichean," Harry said shamefacedly, lowering his fists.

Stubbing the toe of his trainer into the dirt, Harry shrugged knowing that he wasn't really wasn't good at threats. Besides, he didn't have the heart to carry one through even if he had managed to come up with a good one - not even after all the coaching by his two favourite uncles. However, he was more ashamed of letting his uncles down, than he was at getting caught trying to threaten Dudley.

"Nothing? Come, come, now Mister…_'Krueger', _you must do better than that. If there are no consequences to continuing an undesirable action, then there are also no compelling reasons for your adversary to cease such action. You may use this as a proper example of a consequential caveat: as a penalty for fighting, you will both return to the classroom immediately - or else - you will serve detention during morning recess for the remainder of the term. The same penalty will apply to any spectator of this little event who also fails to comply forthwith."

There was a collective gasp from the audience.

"But that isn't fair!" Harry shouted. "The bell hasn't even rung yet! None of us are late!"

Harry was thunderstruck and felt compelled to stick up for Dudley's gang, although they had never been his friends, and they had done their own share of 'Harry Hunting', and making his life miserable just on general principles alone. However, right was right, and fair was fair, and the teacher was clearly in the wrong. Besides, he and Dudley hadn't even really been fighting, they had just going through their normal lunchtime ritual.

"I don't need a reason Mister…_'Krueger'_. That is one of the few perks of being the instructor. I set the rules. And it seems I will be setting quite a few of them for you."

"But ..." Harry was at a loss for words. What did Mr. Nathraichean mean by that?

"Again, with the articulate retorts. Am I to assume from your gaping mouth that you are attempting to inquire as to what I meant by that last statement?"

When Harry just shut his mouth and dumbly nodded, Mr. Nathraichean looked down his long hooked nose and continued slowly, his eyes narrowing to dark slits. "Because, while you were unsuccessfully protesting your innocence, unfortunately for you, Mister Dursley and his companions did as requested."

"But they're all still right there …" Harry looked around and paled as he spotted Dudley and his gang disappearing into the school just as the bell rang. His traitor of a cousin had deserted him and now he was alone with the angry teacher - nothing new there.

"Now that the schoolyard has adequately cleared, even with your advanced myopia you should be able to easily ascertain that due to your own folly you are now – late," Mr. Nathraichean said with a slight sneer and a curl of his upper lip.

"But … but that's your fault! You made me late!"

"I did nothing of the sort. You had free will to meet my terms at any time during this discourse. Now I suggest you tarry no further, unless you wish to squander your afternoon recesses as well. No? Well then, immediate compliance is required - and pick up your litter. I cannot abide people who despoils the environment and wastes resources, it's shameful."

"Yes Sir." Harry dejectedly picked up the half-eaten apple, and headed towards the school building dragging his feet. Absentmindedly he brushed the dirt and gravel from the fruit as he went. It looked okay to him. He didn't see any worm. The apple only had a slight bruise where it hit the ground when Dudley threw it. He'd eaten worse before, and since Dudley had consumed the rest of his lunch - he was hungry.

He wiped the worst of Dudley's drool off from the apple and onto his sleeve and ate the rest of the damaged fruit as he walked back to class. Bruised or not, it was really quite tasty, made even tastier as he thought about how much his mummy loved him.

Every time he thought about his little family, he couldn't help but grin. He had given up on ever having someone in his life that would love him, and had begun to doubt if he even deserved one. Now, not only did he have his very own parents, but he also had a baby sister to love and cuddle, and not just one, but _two_ godfathers for uncles who actually liked having him around. Moreover, so far not one of them had locked him away in a cupboard and forgotten him! His gait turned into a skip.

His family was just getting better and better and today after school Uncle Siri promised to come walk him home … as Cosmos! Oh, wrong … as Padfoot! Harry smiled at the thought. He didn't care what name his dog wanted him to call him, he was just glad he had a dog of his very own. He hadn't gotten to play with him for weeks. Maybe today they could even play fetch! As he thought about that happy activity, he dodged back and forth pretending to play keep-a-way with the phantom pup. He could hardly wait!

Mr. Nathraichean observed Harry walking ahead of him back to the school building. At first, he drug his feet as one condemned. Then for some unbeknownst reason, he broke into a strange little 'happy dance' that was part hop, part skip, part prance, and part jump, as he juggled the apple core by tossing it from hand to hand.

The teacher just shook his head at the stupidity of children. They were so horribly literal. He hadn't intended for the silly boy to eat the apple, not after his cousin had tossed it so carelessly onto the ground. That was not sanitary! He just wanted Potter to pick it up and dispose of it properly.

At least he hadn't wasted it, but why on earth was he smiling so dreamily while eating the spoiled fruit? Moreover, why did he seem to be so happy after he had just told him he had detention during morning recess for the foreseeable future? He scowled at the display. It was almost as if the child was deliberately disrespecting his authority.

What went on in the mind of that child, Mr. Nathraichean could only speculate. However, if he had to hazard a guess, he would guess that it was very little unless he was busy plotting trouble. Looking on the bright side, perhaps the child was brain damaged.

Potter undoubtedly had the I.Q. of a flobberworm, similar to that of his father's as he had clearly inherited most of his genes from his paternal side, evident in the fact that he had already started to show the same bullying tendencies. That he possessed a vast preponderance of James Potter's genes also lent credence to the possibility of some mental imbalance. It was just too bad he had inherited none of his mother's innate intelligence and gentleness as well, such a shame.

Harry tossed the apple core into the dustbin outside the school as he went by and took a deep breath - time to face the classroom again. If he thought he could get away with it, he would have snuck home and played with Holly for the rest of the afternoon. However, with his teacher right behind him, escape would be impossible.

Besides, ditching school wasn't such a good idea since his parents would want to know why he was home early. He supposed he could lie and tell them that it was only a half-day, what with the April First holiday falling on a weekend, but he didn't really think they would buy it being a holiday, besides he wasn't good at lying. He sighed. If he told them the truth, they would be disappointed in him.

His daddy had told him to try and really listen to what the teacher was saying. That as long as he was fair in his actions and words, that he needed to give him the respect he deserved for being the teacher, as it was one of the hardest jobs that someone could have. While his mummy told him to try and look beyond the surface of the words, for the meaning in his teacher's actions, and to put them into the proper perspective.

They were both sure that it wasn't that the teacher hated him, that it was just his unorthodox teaching style, and that he was just trying to help him to learn and grow into a good and intelligent adult. He was trying to do as they asked. If Mr. Nathraichean would just talk in words that he could understand, it wouldn't have taken him so long to figure out what he had been asking him to do, and then he wouldn't be in trouble now. Maybe if the subject didn't come up, he wouldn't have to tell his parents what happened.

Harry wondered how the other kids did it. They weren't any smarter than he was, but it always seemed as if he was the only one who ever got into trouble. He still thought that the teacher had a special grudge against him, even if his parents thought not.

It was something in how the teacher looked at him, and how he kept saying his name, as if he didn't believe it. It was as if Mr. Nathraichean thought that he didn't deserve having anyone as nice as Jimmy and Rose Krueger adopt him. If he kept getting into trouble ... then maybe he didn't. Kicking at some loose gravel in frustration as he went inside, he wished again that Uncle Remmy were still teaching them, he had been a lot more fun.

At that very moment, Mr. Nathraichean was also wishing the former temporary teacher had proven to be less 'temporary' in nature. He had already lived through six gruelling teeth-grinding never-ending tortuous weeks (MUCH against his will he might add), with no quick merciful end to his suffering anywhere in sight. His only hope for salvation had been the quick return of the permanent teacher. However, she had also proved to be less permanent than what was optimally desirable, as she sent word to the principal that she had decided to excuse herself permanently from returning to the position.

He was stuck until the end of term, teaching his worst nightmare, the nine-year-old son of his childhood nemesis. No wonder he was in a bad mood. He didn't think he would have to live through that torturous event for at least another year and a half. Fate and Albus Dumbledore were totally iniquitous. For not only had they trapped him into teaching one nine-year-old, they had thrust twenty-two of them on him, non-stop, no respite, all day long. In his estimation, the only event in his past that was comparable to the soul-sucking excruciating experience of teaching prepubescent children - was a Death Eater meeting, and even those didn't last this long!

'_Hrumph!' _he snorted to himself as he entered the classroom and glanced around scornfully. It was full to the brim with squirmy little excited bodies, without an entire brain betwixt the lot of them. He kept hoping each recess, that one or more of them would wander away, and thus decrease their numbers to his advantage. Nevertheless, they somehow always seemed to find their way back when the bell rang.

'_If they had any intelligence they would not to bring up the taboo subject of Arts and Crafts again. Nevertheless, seeing as they don't, and that they possess the attention span of gnats, they will probably demand another project now that March is ending. Well they can just forget it. I do not 'do' glitter.'_

When he had filled the teaching position in mid February, the school principal had gone over his expectations, and the curriculum he demanded all of his primary teachers follow. One of those directives was to engage the children in a currently topical Arts and Crafts project each month.

He had been fortunate that the former temporary teacher, a Mr. Wolfe, had just finished having the class make valentines for February, so he had two blissful weeks of ignoring the assignment, and then another week of conveniently avoiding Ms. Smythe, the principal's overly inquisitive and overly friendly assistant. After more than a full week had passed into March, he thought he was safe, and then WHAM! When he least expected it, the fiendish little monsters trapped him in their malevolent web.

Ever since his own school days, it had been his practice to fight fire with fire. He knew that wasn't the popular approach and his only childhood friend had continually preached to him that he would get more flies with honey. She said that he should treat others as he would like them to treat him, and that he should be forgiving and turn the other cheek. That he had to be a friend, to make a friend.

That was where she was dead wrong. He didn't want another friend - she was more than enough for him. Only with all that goodie-goodie rot she kept harping on about, she sounded more like a bleeding heart Hufflepuff than the headstrong Gryffindor she was. However, he was not a Hufflepuff either, nor a Gryffindor, not even a Ravenclaw, no he was a Slytherin. As a Slytherin, he had learned his lessons, the hard way.

He had learned that he didn't like flies, honey coated, chocolate dipped, lightly salted, or any other way they might be served. He had learned that respect didn't always go both ways. He had learned that all he received when he turned the other cheek was a broken nose, and second black eye to boot. His permanently hooked nose proved it.

The most crucial lesson he learned during his school days, was that the dark and the shadows were a much more comfortable fit than the glare of the bright lights of centre stage. For obscurity and gloom, more easily hid what he prefer to have stay hidden. The second critical lesson he had learned was that malevolence was not something you could ignore passively and still live. Therefore, when the evil munchkins attacked during St. Patrick's Day, he fought back just as evilly - by assigning essays for Arts and Crafts. Next to lines, that was the schoolchildren's least favourite classroom assignment.

There would be no glue in his quarter, no glitter in his vicinity, not a pot of paint, a lump of clay, or a scrap of colourful construction paper found anywhere. Put scissors in the hands of a nine-year old? HA! That was akin to handing them a loaded weapon. He had thoroughly cleaned his first night here and had secured anything remotely 'crafty' behind lock and key. Safe and sound, where all weapons of mass destruction belonged.

Regrettably, Principal Speer had a bizarre theory that a creative outlet was essential for a growing child to become a well-rounded adult. To accomplish his goal of producing a plethora of imaginative scholars, and to accommodate all the classes in the school, the practical administrator in him also felt the need to adequately budget for it. Therefore, by the end of each month he required the teachers to report to his assistant, what their next project would be and to request any needed supplies. As this had been the established pattern for many years under his rule, the students now expected an announcement on the last school day of the month what their creative project for the next month would be.

While he felt that in the spirit of 'Arts and Crafts', that the assignment should be open to interpretation. He sincerely doubted if he would get away with assigning essays two months in a row. Last month, Ms. Smythe, the principal's assistant had reported him to the principal for being 'uncooperative'. However, since no parent had lodged an 'official' complaint over the essay assignment, it was her word against his, and he had avoided reprimand by feigning a misunderstanding of what constituted an Arts and Crafts project.

Despite his best intention, he had little doubt the lesson he tried to teach them with the assignment - about being careful what you asked for - had gone in one tiny child-sized ear and out the other, as they had no cerebral matter between their ears to impede its path. Sure enough, much to his dismay he had scarcely walked in the door when a little girl named Katie Jones, eagerly waved her hand in the air. He must think ... and fast! The natives were getting restless.

"Mr. Nathraichean? I have a question!" As if he couldn't tell just by looking at her, what was on her nine-year-old one-track mind ... Easter. She was a walking advertisement for everything commercially corrupt about the upcoming holiday. All the little girls in the class giggled behind their hands at his deep sigh, the little boys just looked bored.

"We were wondering what we are going to do for Arts and Crafts this month. If you need any ideas - it's going to be Easter in two weeks," she hinted bouncing in her seat and bopping her head excitedly from side to side like a bobble-head doll.

Hm ... perhaps he could get away with assigning essays again, if he could disguise it in some way ... possibly with a creative title ...

Katie bounced while she waited for a reply. She wore a bright pink jumper with the face of a large white bunny embroidered on it in fuzzy yarn - complete with a pink pompom nose, beady black button eyes, and satin ears that flopped when she bounced up and down. Since Katie liked how they flopped, she bounced a lot. Dangling wooden egg shaped beads painted in bright colours, adorned the clashing neon pink fluffy scrunchies that tied up her bright red curly pigtails. They made a rattling sound when she bopped her head from side to side. Katie liked the sound they made, so she did that a lot too.

Mr. Nathraichean made a mental note to suggest school uniforms to the principal.

"Really Miss Jones? I must have missed the memo," he finally remarked drolly, his sarcasm sailing neatly over her perpetually bouncing head. If she weren't a muggle, he would have bet a tidy sum that she was destined for Hufflepuff.

"Yes Mr. Nathraichean! It's true! It's true!" Katie bounced and bopped in her growing enthusiasm for the subject, the bunny's ears flopping and eggs rattling with merry abandon. It was enough to give her teacher a headache.

"It's almost Easter and I have a new dress to wear! And a new hat! And new shoes with heels! And new stocking with bunnies stitched on them! And a new Easter basket to carry! And my mummy says we're going to have Easter eggs! Lots of them! And this year I even get to help colour them! And then the Easter Bunny is going to hide them, and I'm going to get to hunt for them and maybe even find some marshmallow and jelly ones too! Ooo … and lots and lots of chocolate ones! And maybe even some plastic ones that have little toys inside!"

"My, my, do tell? Plastic playthings, and unlimited sucrose, it sounds so grand. And what of the rest of you - do you all have similar festive plans for the month of April?" He asked solicitously of the class, and was gratified to see a multitude of nodding heads.

"Splendid! I am so happy for you all. Do enjoy." He paused to let that happy sentiment sink in, before dealing the fatal blow.

"It appears that your Arts and Crafts project for April will be more than adequately taken care of in your familial milieu, and therefore completely out of my hands. Bravo! It will leave us with ample time and opportunity to concentrate our studies during class to hone your skills - those of vocabulary, spelling, grammar, and penmanship in particular. I have noted a decided lack of expertise and proficiency in all four areas. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

The class groaned, it sounded suspiciously as if their immediate future would remain glitter free.

Harry was glad that this time the rest of the kids couldn't possibly blame him for the teacher's agenda. He had been careful to mind his own business, and ever since the episode in March, he hadn't raised his hand or talked in class once. In fact, today he hadn't even looked up from his desktop since he came in and sat down. Other than that one scrape at lunch today, for the past two weeks he had done his very best at school to be as totally unnoticeable as humanly possible - a veritable invisible boy.

"It's all Harry's fault," Dudley whinged loudly. "The rest of us did good on our Saint Patrick's Day essays. He was the only one that kept messing it up. Why do we all haft to right more stuff?"

The rest of the children nodded and murmured their agreement.

Mr. Nathraichean was not impressed.

"Sadly Mister Dursley, you even manage to spell things incorrectly when you attempt to verbalize your theories. Moreover, your grammar is no better than that of your cousin Mister…_'Krueger'. _I am quite certain, that without the maternal facilitation that you undoubtedly received, that you would still be endeavouring to complete the assignment."

Harry suppressed a giggle at the look of outrage on his cousin's face.

Dudley crossed his arms and scowled at what definitely sounded like an unflattering assessment. The teacher used such big words it was hard to tell sometimes, but he got the gist of it, and he was very displeased. He had harboured such hopes that Mr. Nathraichean would be an ally on his side against his freaky little cousin. Besides, what he said wasn't true! He had recopied every word of that essay ALL BY HIMSELF. He had to. No matter how big a tantrum he threw, his dad wouldn't make his mum do it over to look like his handwriting. He'd show his teacher! He wouldn't say another word all day, and he wouldn't do anything he asked him too either! He'd just sit here and glare at him the rest of class. It positively wasn't fair, and all this stress was starting to make his tummy feel funny …

On the outside, Mr. Nathraichean looked as unreadable as ever, yet on the inside he smiled broadly to himself at Dudley's silent treatment. It didn't bother him a bit, as that was the way he preferred his students, defensive and silent, two conditions seldom found in a nine-year-old child. Moreover, he had noticed that for that age group, that Mister Dursley in particular, was seldom on the defensive and that it was unusually difficult, if nearly impossible, to ever shut him up.

Dudley Dursley was a whingey opinionated loud mouth brat, who seemed to think he deserved special treatment. Mr. Nathraichean supposed that after having to put up with Potter for eight straight years Dursley did have a point, however he felt disinclined to acquiesce. Nevertheless, even as he basked in his accomplishment, albeit minor, of a quiet attentive class, his internal smile started to diminish as the sour look on Dudley's face contorted and took on the unmistakable aura of one hexed.

"I think I'm gonna be …" Dudley started saying as his face alternated between pale and flushed like a flashing neon sign, "… gaaaa …" he gagged as several worms fell out of his mouth when he opened it, "… sick …"

As Dudley continued to sick up worms at an alarmingly increasing interval, all the little girls near him started screaming at a high pitch, and hopped up on their chairs as the worms started wiggling blindly across the floor in search of some earth into which to burrow and hide from the commotion around them.

All the little boys grinned with glee, dived to scoop up the fat crawlers, and then ran around waving them at the little girls, making them dance on their chairs in alarm. All except for Katie that is - Katie crawled around on the floor, rescuing as many as she could from the pounding feet, dropping them in a dark corner of her desk to keep as pets. In the back of her mind, she thought they might make good playmates for the baby chick she hoped to find in her new basket come Easter.

For the first time in six weeks, Mr. Nathraichean wavered on how to handle the class, and the longer he hesitated the more the situation disintegrated. He knew a magical hex when he saw one, and as nine-year-old muggle boys normally did not spew forth worms, and as he was only aware of one magical person in the vicinity other than himself, he believed he knew with certainty the source of the prank. The question remained of what he should do about it. He knew that the hex would not put Mister Dursley's health in danger, that it would only make him slightly uncomfortable for a while. However, it was a still hex and as such, he should punish the culprit.

If this had been Hogwarts, he wouldn't have hesitated for a moment. He would have sent the hexee to Madame Pomfrey for treatment, and hexer to Argus Filch to serve detention. Then taken fifty points from both their houses for good measure, no make that a hundred. Only this was not Hogwarts and the Primary school nurse was ill equipped to handle it. Being in the midst of muggle suburbia, he couldn't very well pull out his wand to cast a counter spell, or force a potion down the inflicted child's throat.

Besides, he had scant pity for the blonde boy. If anyone deserved a mouthful of worms, that little blighter did for his indiscriminate use of firearms. His leg still throbbed from the results, and he knew he would be picking BB shot out of his calf for years to come. Magical remedies just didn't do anything to cure the results of barbaric muggle weapons.

Between the high-pitched screaming and the hammering of running feet, the teacher felt another migraine rapidly building - it was starting to become a daily occurrence. Merlin, what he wouldn't give to be able to use a silencing spell on them. He would definitely have to demand hazard pay. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he took a deep breath.

"**SILENCE!"** he roared above the din. The entire class immediately froze in place like marble statues. Only the sporadic wet sound of worms hitting the floor, and Dudley's hiccuppy sobs, broke the silence.

"Return. To. Your. Seats. Now." He said evenly, his voice returning to a low calm authoritative monotone. As the children scrambled for their chairs, he handed Dudley a spare dustbin to catch the falling wigglers.

"… Har-Har- … Harry ... (splat splat) … Harry poisoned me! ... (splat) … with the apple! There was a … (splat) … a worm in it! I'm going to die! ... (splat splat ... splat) …"

Dead things were fascinating to all the little boys, so they immediately gave Dudley all of their attention. All the little girls thought all the little boys should be on the other side of the room and stay far, far, away from them. Caught in the middle, Harry slid down in his desk and tried to hide.

"Ha-ha! Dudley is Snow White and Harry is the mean old witch!" Malcolm laughed alluding to the fairy tale wherein the witch gave the princess a poisoned apple.

This allegation got a lot of snickers from Dudley's friends.

"Hey! Maybe if Harry kisses him on the lips it will stop!" Piers chimed in. "Well, it's kinda the same. Anyway, it worked for the prince ..." he justified to his pals who were all sniggering at his suggestion.

"Kissy kissy kissy!" Dennis teased.

"No ... (splat) ... way!" Dudley protested unsuccessfully.

"Mmmm smack smack!" Malcolm scrunched up his face and made smooching noises.

"Cut it out! It … (splat) … isn't funny!" Dudley moaned as his tummy roiled in protest.

"Nah! Dudley isn't Snow White, he's Grumpy the dwarf!" Gordon observed with a laugh.

"Ha-ha! He isn't snow-white either. He's more of a pea-green!" Dennis chortled, breaking into uncontrollable laughter.

"I said … (splat) … cut it out! … I'm dying! ... (splat … splat) …" groaned Dudley, who had indeed by this time had taken on an odd putrid yellowish-green hue.

"You are not dying Mister Dursley. 'Lumbricus terrestris', or the common European earthworm, is high in protein and considered a delicacy in some cultures. A moderate amount of protein never killed anybody. However, in your case moderation does seem to be an issue." The teacher observed only to receive a baleful glare from Dudley.

Dudley hated being teased about his weight but normally not enough to do anything about it, this time however, the situation had impeccable timing and he sicked up several especially juicy worms right on the toes of Mr. Nathraichean's highly polished boots.

"In addition," the teacher continued without missing a beat as he shook off the worms, "… the apple to which you refer was obviously not poisoned, as Mister…_'Krueger'_ who also ate part of it after you threw it away, is suffering no ill effects. It will pass."

Mr. Nathraichean unsympathetic reassurance to the one boy was to the detriment of the other, who now flushed red with embarrassment that the rest of the kids now knew he had eaten second-hand-food.

With a meaningful glance at Harry and then back to Dudley, the teacher added, "However, be that as it may, it may be prudent to refrain in the future from pilfering produce to which you are not entitled."

As if to prove the point, as soon as Dudley miserably nodded his head in agreement, the frequency of the worm's arrival started to ebb.

"Now that you have all come to your senses, it may be best to deviate for a moment from our normal academic schedule for some timely instruction on 'Common Social Mores'."

Mr. Nathraichean whipped around and wrote each word in very large letters across the blackboard. He then underlined each word with a sweeping angry line, breaking the chalk and making all the kids gasp in alarm as he drove it into the board to dot the 'i'.

"Mores, for those of you who are unaware, is a Latin term for behaviour that is accepted by society, as opposed to that which is frowned upon."

"But we didn't break no laws," Malcolm pointed out. "We just teased Dudley a bit, but he's a pal so he doesn't mind, do ya Big D?" Dudley just gave him a baleful glare and sicked up another worm.

"Ignoring the lack of proper grammar in your excuse Mister McGregor, I shall elucidate for you. Mores are not 'written' laws. They are a society's mutually accepted code of behaviour as to what they shall tolerate and what will meet with disapproval. They have to do with the customs and values that define a society, virtues that they hold dear. As such, public sanctions enforce mores, rather than the police. Unfortunately, I cannot dictate what behaviour your parents might deem acceptable at home, however in this classroom you will abide solely by my standard of mores. Are there any questions?"

Twenty-two pairs of eyes glued on him, but not one mouth opened. Mostly because the twenty-two little minds behind them either had zoned out, as he droned on and on, or were not sure about what he was talking. Weren't morays - eels? The worms Dudley was sicking up were long and wiggly and all that, but none of them would confuse them with eels. They exchanged puzzled looks and shrugs. Was the teacher going daft?

"It seems as though someone in this class is trying to get a head start on a thoughtless tradition of mischief and debauchery. To thoroughly understand my critical viewpoint on this generally accepted deviation to social mores, it is important to understand its somewhat dubious history …"

At the prodding of his classmates, Piers interrupted the dialog by raising his hand.

"Yes, Mister Polkiss, you have a question?"

"Are you talking about fish?" he asked what they were all wondering.

"Poisson d'Avril? Alternatively, 'April Fish', as they are known across the Channel. Oui monsieur, in France they call their victims 'fish', as fools are easily caught and reeled in."

"Um … no we meant fish, real ones … you know - eels … like at the fish market."

"No Mister Polkiss, I am referring to all variations of the Feast of Fools, be it the English All Fools Day or April Noddy Day, or the American 'April Fool's Day'. In Italia it is the Festival di Hilaria or Roman Laughing Day, while in India it is known simply as Huli," the teacher continued to drone on, and on, and on.

Mr. Nathraichean certainly knew how to not answer a direct question, but all the children perked up attentively anyway.

They all knew All Fool's Day was on Sunday and they had all been plotting little tricks to play on their families, but their teacher seemed to be very knowledgeable on the subject so maybe he was going to teach them how to do some really neat ones for their Arts and Crafts project!

YAY - a fun school lesson! This beat glitter any day of the week!

"Most cultures celebrate this change of seasons within a few weeks of April the first, however in the Spanish culture it is observed in December as the Day of the Holy Innocents. In Germany and Norway, they repeat the holiday, at the first and last of the month. In Scotland, they enjoy it so much they spread it out over two days, Huntingowk Day and … (ahem) … Taily Day."

This last part brought grins of amusement to most of the little boys, who were even now wondering if they could tag their teacher's bum in the Scottish Taily Day tradition with a 'kick me' sign, and calculating the odds of possibly get away with it.

"However, I do not care what you call it, or when you desire to celebrate it, it is not a license to run amuck and pull cruel pranks. Doing so is tantamount to being a bully, and I will not tolerate any snivelling cowardly little bullies in my classroom. Claims of 'spring fever' will not excuse you. There will be no 'fun fest' in this classroom."

The grins disappeared and crestfallen faces replaced them. There was going to be no 'getting away with it'.

When Mr. Nathraichean made this pronouncement, he was not surprised in the least to see Dursley immediately turn in his seat to glare at Potter, nor to see the recipient of Dursley's glare and his own admonishment, try to slip even farther under his desk in a futile attempt to become invisible. What his biased tunnel vision didn't allow him to see was the remaining twenty children all sending identical accusatory glances Dudley's way, but none at all towards Harry. They all knew who the real bully was.

"If the victim of the practical joke is not someone you have a congenial rapport with it can be viewed as a hostile act. Not all take pleasure in being the butt of a prank."

All the little boys snickered when the teacher said the word 'butt' in his low drawl. All the little girls' cheeks blushed a bright pink. The teacher ignored them all.

"If you feel the need to express your anger it is best to find a more constructive outlet. If you cannot think of one, I would be delighted to provide one for you." Yes indeed, he could think of many physically exhausting activities with which to occupy their time.

Harry didn't know what to make of his teacher's lecture. It was the exact opposite of what his daddy and uncles had been talking about now for days. They seemed to think that _not_ pranking someone was a hostile act.

They said that when you pull a prank on someone, it was a way of showing the other person that you care enough about them to plot something on their behalf. Even his mummy had said that it was all really just light-hearted fun, trying to get people to believe silly things, or to look for things that don't actually exist.

At Mrs. Figg's prompting, he had pulled a couple of minor pranks on Dudley, but rarely enough that anyone noticed it wasn't his usual freakishness coming out. Further, he had to admit his were more for revenge as his teacher said, than to show he cared, as his daddy said they should be. Conflicted, Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

He might have been mean with his little tricks on his cousin, but he didn't like the thought of his teacher alluding that his mummy wasn't a nice person if she enjoyed a little pranking. He could see where maybe his daddy or uncles could easily become carried away and go overboard from time to time - but his mummy? If she said it was all right, then it just had to be! In Harry's eyes, his mummy was the most wonderful person on the face of the earth. She would never be mean.

Mr. Nathraichean raising one eyebrow was the only outward sign of his inner gloating.

Noticing Harry's seemingly guilty demeanour, he felt his talk had obviously hit a raw nerve. Now that he had confirmed the identity of the true classroom bully, he would have to think of how to deal with him before he got out of hand. However, that was for later, for now he had a class to attend to, and he did not intend to waste any more valuable classroom time for the benefit of one child, especially not that particular child.

"Since we were forced to spend the better part of the last hour on a subject not within the scope of this class, that time will have to be recouped 'vestri vicis' - on your own time."

Turning around and erasing the blackboard, the teacher quickly replaced the writing with a list of ten vocabulary words.

"I expect each of you to use these words in a neatly written, grammatically proper, correctly spelled, coherent sentence that demonstrates your knowledge of their definition. The assignment is due first thing Monday morning. No excuses accepted."

Once more in total control of the class, the teacher stood in front of them revelling in the disgruntled looks on his little charges downcast faces. As they soaked in the magnitude of the assignment, they realized that it meant weekend homework. That should keep them busy and out of trouble, he snorted. He had tried to teach them to be careful of asking for things. It was their own fault they had not learned, the little fools.

The unhappy groans at his announcement were loud enough to drown out Dudley, who as he spewed forth fewer and fewer worms, took the opportunity to moan louder and more often. He had the sneaking suspicion that the teacher realized that it was Harry's fault, even though he never came right out and said it. After all, wasn't that the whole point of that long boring lecture - to point out what a total idiot his cousin was? No matter, he didn't care as long as Harry didn't escape unpunished for causing him pain and anguish - although he wasn't in pain, and he wasn't really anguished.

Even Dudley's slight embarrassment had evaporated when he realized the potential boon to his popularity. His friends' kidding aside, the ability to sick up worms could only be viewed as highly valued talent in the eyes of other envious nine-year-old boys. He only hoped it wouldn't stop completely before afternoon recess. He was sure to be the centre of attention if it didn't. In addition, if he managed one or two at his parent's dinner party tonight, his mum would go ballistic! Way cool!

After drilling the class for the next hour on the multiplication table, Mr. Nathraichean dismissed them for their afternoon recess. All the little boys taking it as a cue, once again to chase the all the little girls screaming out onto the playground, by waving handfuls of worms grabbed out of Dudley's bin at them.

As the classroom started to clear, Mr. Nathraichean called out, "Not so fast Mister… _'Krueger', _you will remain in your seat."

As Harry reluctantly sat back down, Dudley threw him a victorious look over his shoulder before escaping outside with the others. _'It figures I'd get blamed for it,'_ Harry thought crossly and folded his arms in front of him.

He hadn't done anything to Dudley, but of course, the teacher would take his side, they always did. He'd probably also want an explanation, they always wanted one and before he had never had one. Now he had one - a great one! However, he had sworn secrecy.

He knew now that he was a wizard and occasionally when weird things happened, it _was _his fault, because he didn't know how to control his magic yet. However, his parents said this was normal and would only happen if he was to get really upset, or really scared, and he hadn't been really either one today. He had actually almost bested his cousin and felt pretty good about it, so he wasn't sure why Dudley had ended up with a mouth full of wiggly worms.

Nevertheless, if accidental magic didn't cause it, then someone did it on purpose, and all Harry knew was that someone wasn't he. He didn't know how to do _any_ magic on purpose, and certainly nothing nearly so entertaining. Since April Fools Day was approaching his uncles had promised to try and teach him how to do some 'fun little self-defence manoeuvres' as they called them ('harmless pranks' per his daddy, and 'don't-you-dare-put-any-ideas-into-his-head hoaxes' according to his mummy), but they hadn't had time yet. So he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that this time it ABSOLUTELY WAS NOT him.

Maybe Dudley did it to himself, he thought … after all, Dudley was 'family' (whether he thought so or not), and strange abilities did run in their family. However it happened, Harry found it hilarious, but wisely suppressed a giggle. If he truly were in big trouble, laughing about it now wouldn't get him very far. It would just get him into more trouble. He knew that from experience.

Mr. Nathraichean contemplated his student. Was it possible that he did not know he was a wizard? Lily's magic hating sister had raised him, so perhaps … if so, perhaps it was also accidental magic, which had hexed his cousin, rather than a deliberate attempt.

Sweating under the intense scrutiny, Harry put on his very best I-am-innocent-and-have-absolutely-no-idea-why-I-am-in-trouble look, and tried not to stare back at his teacher.

Mr. Nathraichean however, made absolutely no pretence of not staring at Harry, and he did so unblinkingly. The dratted child looked so wide-eyed and innocent ... too much so to actually be in his opinion. That innocent-and-have-absolutely-no-idea-why-I-am-in-trouble look wasn't fooling him - it wasn't possible.

That prank had 'marauder-in-training' written all over it.

However, the Marauders never had any compulsion whatsoever to hide their misdeeds. They thoroughly enjoyed the scandal, good or bad, that it would bring. Arrogant egotistical showboats the lot of them. Thinking over the apple prank, this child had been quiet, he even tried to hide under his desk - odd behaviour for an attention seeker.

It was most likely just another one of his clever ploys.

Nevertheless, why did he not seek the attention? Was it possible that he didn't even know who he truly was? Was that why he went by that odd name instead of flaunting his notoriety? Was the child that stupid that he didn't realize he was famous? Of course he was! Why even ask? His performance on the last essay proved that. Troll level at best.

Mr. Nathraichean despised being indecisive, and was sorely tempted to use legilimency on the boy to find out just what, if anything, he knew of the wizarding world. It would be so easy ... but so wrong, he reminded himself. Moreover, looking deeply into those familiar brilliant green eyes, he knew he would be betraying Lily once again if he did.

Still … oh soooooo tempting.

When he came to Surrey at the request of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to try and locate the missing boy-who-lived, Albus had only given him a few scant facts - as the Headmaster had this bizarre notion that too many facts and details somehow mucked everything up.

One fact that he know was that for the better part of the child's life he had been raised by his maternal aunt and uncle, Petunia and Vernon Dursley. He vividly remembered Petunia, Lily's older sister, from their childhood. The memories were not pleasant. He had never met Vernon, but if their offspring, Dudley, was to act as a gage for the character of the father, then Vernon Dursley was not pleasant either.

He also knew the Dursleys home at Number 4 Privet Drive had burned to the ground Christmas Day. The wizarding newspapers, The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler, had well publicized that event by plastering it on their front pages for weeks on end.

Reporters from the Daily Prophet claimed Death Eaters had demolished the house, and in doing so caused the failure of the blood wards protecting their precious saviour. While the Quibbler credited the attack not to Death Eaters, but to an army of Heliopaths, huge flaming beasts that set fire to everything that got in their path.

The Quibbler further reported that (according to reliable anonymous sources) the Heliopaths were under the command of the Minister for Magic at the time of the disaster. The Quibbler however, did not venture to speculate, as to why the Minister was out casually walking his herd of flaming beast in Surrey on a Holiday evening, or how he had come to lose control, allowing them run amok through the midst of muggle suburbia.

The failure of the wards, were the most likely cause. Nevertheless, what caused the wards to fail was still unproven - although the Ministry attributed it to the Death Eater attack. The Dursley's unsubstantiated statement given to the Aurors - that a horde of wizards had invaded their home on Christmas Eve and stolen the boy right out of their tender loving arms, and then returned the next day to set their house aflame to cover up their deed - being the sole basis for their theory.

He thought the Dursley's story was a little suspicious. In his opinion, it could not have happened as they said. For events to transpire as told, the wards would have had to have already have failed before the first raid, which they would not have as long as the boy called their house his home. Albus Dumbledore would have seen to that caveat.

No, if the boy had truly been missing at the time of the second raid, then the Dursleys had to have let whoever took the boy into their home, and the boy had to have left with them willingly. Only who could that have been? Moreover, why would the boy willing leave the care of the family who so obviously doted on him, to go with total strangers? It didn't make sense. The Dursley's had to have known where he was the entire time.

According to the Quibbler, after the Aurors interviewed the Dursleys, the family promptly disappeared. The Quibbler reporter was positive sure that an Umgubular Slashkilter had carried them off. Their reporter further held that said monster was also under the control of the Minister for Magic. A highly doubtful scenario, as there was no proof that Umgubular Slashkilters actually existed, let alone that the Minister own a zoo filled to the brim of dangerous fantastical beasts. Still, something did cause their disappearance. In addition, as the slightly more reliable sources from the Daily Prophet confirmed - despite extensive search efforts, no trace of the Dursleys, or of Harry Potter, had been found.

Bah! No wonder he took little notice of anything either paper ever said - fools the lot of them. It took him precious little time and legwork to find them for himself.

The Headmaster had told him that the Dursleys had one son, approximately the same age as Harry Potter. Using deductive reasoning, he knew that if he found the Dursley's son - he would find the Dursleys. Once he found the Dursleys, he was sure he could 'persuade' them, with his finely honed skills, to tell him the truth about Potter's whereabouts.

First, he proceeded to question the neighbours to get a general description of the son. It only took knocking on two doors before one neighbour, a Mrs. Polkiss, said as he was leaving 'Oh by the way, Dudley is in the same Primary class as my Piers. You can find him there tomorrow.' Ha! So much for the Ministry's 'exhaustive' search, less than ten minutes had been all it took to locate the Dursleys. He always knew the Aurors were a lot of bumbling idiots.

He wasn't surprised however, that the Death Eaters hadn't found them yet. Death Eaters were not known to possess the 'niceties' needed to converse in small talk pleasantries with the average muggle. They were more apt to use the _Crucio_ curse when interrogating them, which normally resulted in their deaths - and as dead muggles seldom parted with useful information, their tactics would have benefited them naught.

After consulting with Dumbledore, his next stop was the local Primary school. He dropped in, under the pretence of inquiring about a temporary teaching position. The Headmaster had even 'helped' him out with his masquerade by conjuring him an authentic looking muggle résumé as a cover. The C.V. was so good, that the Principal had ended up hiring him on the spot to replace a teacher whom had proven to be 'not up to snuff' in the Principal's estimation.

The principal told him that the job would only be for a few days, as the permanent teacher for the class was due to return the next Monday. Given that information, he accepted the offer, feeling it would give him the opportunity to investigate the school's address files for the Dursleys current location, and yet be of sufficient brevity to avoid taxing his patience unduly.

However, he never had to crack open even one file folder, as on his first day of class, who should walk into his new classroom, right behind a boy who matched the description of Dudley Dursley to a tee? Why, it was none other than the 'missing' boy-who-lived himself - Harry Potter. Even without the lightning bolt scar, there was no mistaking whose child he was. He would know those green eyes anywhere. In addition, much to his disgust - he recognized the unkempt hairstyle as well.

Scanning quickly down the class roster the principal's assistant had dropped off, he only found one 'Harry', only with the last name of 'Krueger'. He hadn't been expecting that, perhaps 'Dursley', if Lily's sister had softened at all over the years, but … _'Krueger'_?

Mrs. Krueger was the name on record of the substitute teacher from the previous December, the one who left at the start of the Christmas holiday about the same time as the boy's alleged 'disappearance'. The timing was right, but it could just be an odd coincidence. However, if it weren't, then who were these 'Krueger's? Moreover, why in Merlin's name was Potter with them, instead of in the custody of his loving relatives, being waited on hand and foot? Questions - questions - questions. It was aggravating.

Intrigued, he followed the boys when they left school that afternoon, to a rundown building with three flats - less than a kilometre from the Dursley's charred domicile. Dursley lived in the ground floor flat, while Potter proceeded up to the first floor walk-up.

Again - unexpected. He had thought perhaps these 'Kruegers' had more money with which to fulfil the spoiled rotten child's every whim. However, from the looks of the building, he acknowledged that he might be slightly mistaken in that regard. Still, it was a good theory so he wasn't ready to discard it quite so easily.

Potter's living circumstances notwithstanding, the brat had still been located, therefore his mission for the Headmaster was at an end, less than forty-eight hours after it started … or so he thought.

He had started teaching the Primary class the day after Valentine's Day, a Thursday, and feeling obligated by commitment, and proud of his reputation of being able to face any foe, even nine-year-olds, he also reported to the Primary School to teach on Friday morning to finish out the week. Then bright and early on Saturday morning he smugly reported back at Hogwarts, announced his assignment successfully completed, and declared his intention to return to his beloved potions lab forthwith.

Albus however, had other plans, and they involved making sure that Harry stayed 'safe'.

Sometimes he did not like Albus Dumbledore very much. As he sat there staring into the green eyes of one Harry…_'Krueger' _… he realized that now, was one of those times.

"Er … Sir?" The object of his harsh analysis finally dared to open its mouth.

"Yes, Mister…_'Krueger'_?" he replied with a slight snarl.

"Er … why did you want me to stay in from afternoon recess? I thought I only had detention during the morning recesses ..." his voice trailed off under the unrelenting obsidian glare of his teacher.

"As we discussed before - I do not need a reason Mister…_'Krueger'_. I am the instructor. However if you require one, we will attribute it to the earlier incident with the apple. You will serve detention during afternoon recess for the remainder of the term," he replied evenly. Actually, he had a very good reason, and that wasn't it, he just no intention of sharing it with the brainless boy.

"Oh …" Harry slouched down in his seat, and this time didn't attempt to hide his stare.

This was going to be a long lousy spring. Harry had known he would end up getting the blame for Dudley disrupting the class, he just didn't figure it would be this bad. No recess for morning _and_ afternoon? That was harsh! However, come to think of it, it was also odd that Mr. Nathraichean hadn't asked him for an explanation of how it had happened. He hadn't even acted as if he though what had happened to Dudley was that peculiar.

Twenty painful minutes later, the bell rang ending the staring match, as the rest of the class returned, out of breath, and rosy cheeked from chasing each other all over the playground. First, the little boys had chased the girls with worms until they all managed to wiggle out of their grasp into the safety of the grass, then the little girls had chased the boys in retaliation once they realized they were no longer armed with creepy crawlies.

The rest of the afternoon crawled by as slowly as the worms for both Harry and his teacher. To Harry, it seemed like every time he glanced up, the teacher was boring holes through him with his hard steely eyes. To the teacher, it seemed as if the boy was deliberately baiting him.

By the time the final bell rang, Harry was only too glad to get out from under the intense scrutiny of Mr. Nathraichean, and Mr. Nathraichean was only too thankful it was Friday and the end of his torture for the week.

Since finding Potter, he not only had to endure his presence in class five days a week, he had also been making sure nightly that the muggle flat where he was 'hiding' was secure, and that it was still undetected by Death Eaters and Ministry alike.

He had sent word to Dumbledore that he would have to babysit his golden boy himself for the weekend, as he had several personal errands that he could not put off any longer. That wasn't exactly true, he could have postponed them, but he was tired, cranky, limping, and sorely in need of a break from guard duty.

So it was with absolute delight, and a terrifyingly uncharacteristic smile, that he ushered them quickly out at the end of day. Today he wasn't even going to bother disillusioning himself and following the-boy-who-lived-to-be-an-irritating-nuisance and his equally trying cousin home, as was his routine. Closing the door after the last little darling left, he disapparated. As of now, he was on a much deserved weekend vacation.

"Hi sweetie!" Lily called gaily from the school ground swings where she had been waiting with Holly to walk Harry home. Harry saw and managed a half-hearted wave back, and then headed her way with dragging feet. His mummy wasn't whom he had expected.

Observing the unmistakable slouch to his shoulders, she knew without asking that he hadn't had a good day, but she asked anyway, "So, how was your day?"

"Alright ..." he answered dejectedly after looking around hopefully for the big black dog and not finding him. Sitting down in the swing next to her, he started pumping his legs.

"Are you sure?" Lily put out a hand to stop his swing so she could look him in the eyes.

Harry sighed, he didn't want to lie to his mummy, especially not when she looked at him loving and all concerned like that. Nevertheless, he just couldn't admit to her that he had gotten into trouble again already, not when he had promised to do his best to be good for the teacher, maybe half-truths would work …

"Not so good really, I have to do homework again this weekend."

"Just homework?" she dug further, knowing he didn't normally complain about doing schoolwork, as he did truly like to learn. "Is that all that's wrong?"

Harry hedged. At the very least he would have to tell her about the fight before Dudley did, but maybe if he left out the part about the punishment, or at the very minimum at least not elaborate on the length and frequency of it, he would be okay.

"Er … I got into a little trouble with the teacher."

"Trouble?"

"Yeah … I guess I was fighting with Dudley at lunch."

"You only guess you were? Seems to me, either you were or you weren't, which was it?"

"Okay ... I was. But Dudley was being a pain."

"Oh honey, I really wish you two would learn to get along."

"I'm willing, but he's not."

"Maybe someday he'll feel differently. You two are family, and you grew up together for eight years. Maybe someday that will mean something to him."

"I thought things would be different now that Dudley was back in his own house."

"Give it time!" Lily laughed, "They just moved back in today while you were at school. That's why Holly and I are here to walk you home."

Holly waved her arms and cooed a hallo to confirm her participation. She was always happy to see her big brother.

"Your Aunt Petunia picked up Dudley in the car. She said she didn't want her 'ickle Diddykins' to have to walk a _whole_ kilometre home."

"I thought my dog ... I mean Cosmos … I mean Padfoot … I mean Uncle Siri was coming," Harry said wistfully.

"Oh! So a mum's not good enough anymore? What am I, chopped liver?" Lily teased.

She knew why her little boy looked so sad. Ever since they found out that Harry's 'imaginary dog' was really his godfather Sirius - James, Remus, and herself had been occupying all of his time. He must be missing his 'dog' something fierce.

"… noooooo … it's not that Mummy. It was just that he promised, and I was just wishing I still had a dog. It was fun." Harry said starting to pump his legs to make the swing sail as high in the air as he could.

Holly just giggled and cooed. This was the one thing, over which she disagreed with her brother - she didn't mind at all that her funny doggy-man had arms and legs instead of paws and a tail. They made it much easier for him to pick her up and carry her around.

"But isn't having your godfather back just as much fun? And he is still an animagus."

"… yeah … he just hasn't been a dog since he took me to Gringotts." Harry looked glum as he slowed the swing to a stop again. "I thought maybe we could play fetch on the way home. I found a good stick during lunch and everything ..."

"Please don't sulk. You know your Uncle Siri loves you and wants to play with you, but he is still recovering from his treatment in Azkaban. Transforming takes a lot of energy and a lot of magic, and right now he needs his rest to get better."

"But how long is it going to take?"

Harry tried not to whinge too much, but he felt really whingey about it so it was hard not to. After all, it if hadn't been for him, Uncle Siri would still be lost. So why should he lose his dog? Not that having another uncle wasn't good … it just wasn't the same thing.

"As his nurse, until I say different. Believe me - he is as antsy about it as you are. He really wanted to come today to pick you up." At the look of doubt on Harry's face, she explained further. "It wasn't his fault he had to break his promise, it was mine. I had to shoot him with a body bind spell to make him stay in put when Holly and I left to come get you. So don't be mad at him okay? He tried. And you do have Uncle Remmy too."

"He and Uncle Siri promised to teach me some stuff, but whenever I go downstairs to see them they're always too busy planning rat hunts to show me anything. Besides, Uncle Remmy never wants play anymore because he's always sick from eating pies. I hate pies," Harry grumbled.

"I know it's been hard on you … but you do know your Uncle Remmy loves you. He's just had a hard time the last few months because he is almost out of his medicine. It won't always be like this, he's looking for more. If he promised you that he would do something, then I know he will eventually. Now come on," she said stopping the swing and standing up, holding out her hand for him to take. "Before we go, I think I'll have a word with your teacher about the amount of homework he assigns on weekends."

"No! I mean … please don't. That will just make it worse …" his voice trailed off as he could tell from the set look on her face that he wasn't going to be able to convince her.

"No Harry - I want to be involved in your education. Besides, I don't like it that you still feel as if he doesn't like you after six weeks. That doesn't make for a good learning environment. It's time for a Parent-Teacher conference," Lily said with determination taking his hand and leading the way back into the building where she marched up to the classroom door and opened it without even knocking.

"Mr. Nathraichean - I'm Rose Krueger. I'd like to talk to you about …" Lily stopped abruptly when she realized the room was empty. "That's odd. I thought I just heard him."

"Yeah ... he's good at that," Harry nodded thinking about all the times his teacher had snuck up on him.

"He certainly left quickly enough. I never got out this soon after class on Fridays. It always took me at least a few hours to prepare the lesson plans for the next week."

"Oh he doesn't have to. See? He already has everything planned out for the rest of the term." Harry pointed to the lengthy outline prominently posted on the board, with items neatly checked off in date and time order.

"I see that he does," Lily observed scrutinizing the list while patting Holly on the back.

When Harry had said 'everything', he meant _everything._ Every recess, every lunch, every subject. Exactly what he intended to covered, when, and for how long, was on the schedule down to the minute.

It was all very organized and slightly creepy. It was almost as if the teacher was counting down the hours until term was over, just as a prisoner would count down his sentence with hash marks on his cell wall. No, not _almost_ like it, _exactly _like it, she remembered someone else who used to do that too …

"Mr. Nathraichean doesn't like it when we don't stick to the schedule. It makes him really grouchy. So I think he put it up there so nobody can say they didn't know what they were supposed to be doing," Harry wisely surmised.

"Does it work?" Lily was amused at the teacher's attempt to reign in the class of creative exuberant nine-year-olds she remembered, and stuff them into tidy little neat boxes.

"Not really. We keep forgetting to read it," Harry admitted, a loud 'burp' from Holly punctuating his observation.

"Well, I suppose there's no point in hanging around here any longer. The quicker we get back to the flat, the quicker you can get that homework out of the way. I see it is the first thing on the list for Monday morning. Vocabulary – collect and grade, forty-four minutes. That's two minutes per child," Lily mused laughingly at the pained look on her son's face.

"Great … it'll take me at least ten times as long to do it," Harry said rolling his eyes.

Taking his mummy's hand, they left the school and skipped down the pavement, swinging Holly in her carrier between them like an Easter basket all the way home. When they got to close to the flat, Harry could hear his daddy and uncles laughing uproariously from the now vacant top floor.

"I wonder what those pranksters are up to now." Lily said slowing down and scowling upwards towards the noise. "They better not have done something stupid."

"Harry! You're home! Come quick!" James called out the window and waved for his son to join him upon seeing them approach. Harry looked at his mummy questioningly, and upon getting a nod from her, he grinned and took off running up the stairs two at a time.

"Hey! What's going on?" Harry asked bursting into the living room of the first floor flat, to come to a screeching halt in front of a large gaping hole in the floor. As he teetered precariously on the edge, James' strong arms caught him around the waist.

"Whoa there! Are you alright then?" James laughed and pulled him back to safety.

"I can see all the way down to the basement!" Harry gasped in awe when he crawled to the edge and peered over it. "What did it? Was it Dudley?"

"Ooo! Good idea kiddo! If Lily doesn't like it, we can blame it on Duddles! He's her nephew so that would kind of make it her own fault wouldn't it?" Sirius chimed in from the comfy couch, where he lounged with his long legs propped up on pillows. The soft blanket that Lily had left tucked around him was still snugly pulled up under his chin, so only his stocking feet with their wiggling toes and his happy grin showed on either end.

"Or … maybe she won't notice? It's not _that_ big," James said hopefully.

"It _is _that big," Remus contradicted dryly. "And before you suggest it, I think she'll also remember that there wasn't a hole through her flat when she left a half an hour ago. Besides Dudley's been gone all day to school with Harry. You really can't blame it on him when he wasn't even here when it happened."

"Then how about Vermin? Or … Her Pettiness?" Sirius tried again.

Remus shook his head 'No' you can't blame Vernon or Petunia either.

"Ah, come on! There must be some way to blame the Dursleys! No? Really? Are you sure? Okay … back to claiming dry rot then," Sirius pouted. "But I don't see why not, it's such a good idea …"

"What's a good idea?" Harry asked with curiosity. All he could see was a big mess.

"Blaming the hole on your _other _relatives, the ones on your mum's side of the family, if she disapproves that is. But why are you asking me? You should know - you were the one to come up with it."

"I did?"

"Yeah… just now, you came in – saw the hole – and immediately thought Dumbo did it. That gives me another idea! We can say he was so fat, that the floor retroactively gave out under the stress. No question about it, you're brilliant! Natural intelligence, you must get it from my side of the family," Sirius smirked.

"Hardly likely. I don't think it works that way." James said quirking an eyebrow fondly at his friend. "But back to the dry rot … yeah that's our excuse and we're sticking to it."

"SIRIUS! JAMES! REMUS! WHAT HAVE YOU NITWITS DONE TO MY HOME?" Lily shrieked up at them through the hole as Harry pulled his head back quickly out of sight.

"Oops … she doesn't sound too pleased," Remus observed.

"Why does she always blame me first?" Sirius protested. "I'm the only one totally innocent in the whole affair - I didn't lift a finger. You two wouldn't let me off the couch!"

"AND WHERE IS MY COUCH?"

"I think you mean – the _hole_ affair – and yes you are to blame, you're the one that couldn't wait until Lily got back, and kept ragging at us until we did it."

"GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF!"

"Coming dearest!" James sang out sweetly and sweeping Harry onto his back to ride piggyback, he motioned for the others to follow him down to the ground floor flat.

"Time to face the music guys. C'mon – you too Padfoot, you got us into this," he ordered, ducking low through the doorframe and galloping down the stairs to the delight of his son.

"Not me!" Sirius called after them. "I'm not moving a muscle! Lily will get even more upset at me if I do. That woman has one wicked body bind spell, and I'm not risking it!"

"Hey Rosie-posy! Good news!" James said brightly as he trotted to a halt in front of her and the huge pile of lath and plaster. "We figured out why the floor in the upstairs flat squeaked so much! It was … _ahem …_ dry rot."

"Try again." Lily said hands on her hips, toe tapping, not buying his explanation one bit.

"Alright … maybe all the …_ (cough) … extra weight …_ it's been carrying lately, just made it … ah … Remus help?" James stumbled over the alternate explanation.

"What James is trying to say is that perhaps the sudden load differential weakened the structure's internal integrity and made it implode?" Remus supplied coming up behind him, and going with a more tactful and technical version of Sirius' lame excuse.

"_After_ the – 'extra weight' – moved out? Really? How very odd." Lily gave an unladylike snort and looked highly sceptical. "Tell me just one thing boys - how are we going to explain the damage to the landlord? He inspected after Petunia and Vernon moved out. I highly doubt he will believe that they were the cause now."

"Well since you put it that way … I guess we could just ask the landlord if he minds," James said with a slow grin that slowly grew bigger. "Hey, Remus ... do you mind if there's a slight hole in your new investment property?"

"And I would say …" Remus answered with a matching grin, "… not at all my good man, do you need any help to make it bigger?"

"This is a joke … right? Ha ha, very funny. A little early for April Fools don't you think? "

"If it is, then the joke is on me." Remus answered his smile turning apologetic.

The silence was deafening. Lily just looked from one to the other, in shock.

"You mean it? You _bought_ the building? When did this happen?"

"Um … just now while you were out?"

"So let me get this straight … in the last half hour you really _bought_ the building Remus?" Lily repeated unable to wrap her mind around the concept. "But … _WHY?_"

"Why not?" he shrugged.

"Because we're NOT staying! That's why not!"

"True … but we also aren't going back tomorrow. You said only last night that we should wait until Harry's school is out for the summer holidays."

"It's okay with me if I don't finish school," Harry offered helpfully who was now dangling upside-down over his daddy's shoulder, with James holding onto his ankles.

"IT'S NOT WITH US!" both of his parents responded in unison.

"Remus, you can spend your money on whatever you want, but why did you buy it?" Lily continued, "It's falling apart." She kicked at the pile of plaster and raised a dust cloud.

"Oh it's not that bad," Remus said optimistically. "I've never owned a property before. I kind of like it. It makes me feel … substantial. Besides, I had to do something with all that money you and James forced on me. I still say that you didn't have to pay two thousand percent interest on the mere pittance I loaned you."

"It was worth more than that to me my friend," James declared putting a hand on the other man's shoulder. "And it wasn't a _mere _pittance - you gave us every last cent you had, relatively speaking that was a king's fortune! I'm not likely to forget that."

"Thank you James," Remus said modestly.

"And it's really the perfect solution for our little family." James turned to point out to Lily. "With Remus in the basement flat, and Sirius in the loft, it's a Marauder Mansion!"

"I still don't understand why you thought you had to buy it Remus," Lily said finally picking Holly up out of her carrier and sitting down with her in the rocker.

"With Sirius back we needed a little more room. And he couldn't rent the flat upstairs …"

"Seeing as half the people think I'm an escaped convict …" a voice floated down from the flat above.

"… and he couldn't buy it …"

"Seeing as the other half thinks I'm dead ...," the voice added with a snicker.

"… and you and James couldn't buy it either …"

"Since we're out of money again," James reminded her, "even if it was a bargain. For a change, Dursley finally did us a favour. I'm sure he didn't know he was, or he would have kept his bloody trap shut, but after he bent the landlord's ear for the better part of two hours this morning, complaining about everything wrong with the neighbourhood and the flat, the landlord couldn't sell it fast enough. Since Remus paid cash on the spot, he sold for way below market value. Then when we're ready to go, he can always resell it if he wants to, instead of renting it out. He'll get at least twice what he paid for it."

"Okay fine … but why put a hole through the building?" Lily asked in exasperation.

"You told Sirius he couldn't get off the couch. How else were we going to get him and the couch upstairs to his new loft?" James pointed out reasonably.

Lily just narrowed her eyes and gave him a long calculating look. "Fix it. Fix it now."

"Yes Ma'am!" James saluted and pulled out his wand with one hand, and swung Harry off his back with the other. "Better stand back son, this may get messy."

James swished and flicked his wand at the pile of broken lath and plaster until it transfigured into a spiral staircase that stretched from the top floor loft to the basement flat. Another spell smoothed the ragged edges of the holes into neat squares at the landings. A final spell caused two books to fly off the bookshelf and transfigure into sturdy doors with locks that could be shut between the floors for privacy, and during those special times of the month when Remus was being slightly antisocial due to his 'furry little problem'.

"There! How's that?" James asked proud of his handiwork.

"… _ahem …_" Lily got up and ran a finger across the surface of table, and then held up a dusty digit at the end of his nose for inspection.

"Oh right," James frowned. He was much better at transfiguration than he ever had been at cleaning and scouring charms.

"Here let me take care of that. After all, it _is_ my building. I should do something to help clean it up." Remus smoothly flicked out a _'Scourgify'_.

"Can I get up yet? I'm borrreeeddddd …" Sirius' voice floated down the new staircase.

"**NO!"** Lily, James and Remus all yelled back in unison.

"Then can someone come up here and keep me company?" he whinged. "I'm lonely."

"I'll go! Maybe Uncle Siri can help me with my homework!" Harry volunteered taking Holly with him and disappearing up the spiral staircase in a flash.

"Goody! You brought up the rugrat!" came down Sirius' merry chortle and Holly's delighted giggle at being plopped in her doggy-man's lap.

"Do NOT call MY daughter a RAT!" Lily scolded up the stairs before giving James and Remus an approving nod. "I suppose it will work, at least it will be easier to keep an eye on what's going on since the young ones will probably want to live up there with our newest and oldest child. And it does give us a bit more room."

"All's forgiven then?" James asked tentatively.

Lily sighed and nodded, in for a penny - in for a pound. After all, she was the one who suggested to James that he invite his 'brothers' to move in, in the first place.

"This will be great!" he enthusiastically enveloped her in a hug. "We can all be together, but still with some privacy. Moreover, with no muggle landlord poking around and needing access, we can set up better protections than what we had. And we won't have to go outside to get from one flat to the other."

"Then you do think we need more protection ..." Lily sat down feeling faint at the thought.

"Sirius' mind is coming back in bits and pieces, but from what I've put together so far from his memories, along with back issues of the Prophet, it looks pretty grim. There isn't a firm consensus on just what happened to You-Know-Who when we were 'killed', and there's a large contingent of his followers mucking about causing trouble sure he will somehow come back. Dudley even had Malfoy's calling card for Merlin's sake! He said a man with long white blonde hair left it with his dad the night their house burned down."

"Apparently, Malfoy has a major influence with the Ministry now," Remus added. "That's probably why he got away with burning down the Dursley's house without any public repercussions landing on his doorstep."

"I shudder to think what would have happened if we hadn't have found Harry when we did. What if he had still been there?" James wondered, not realizing he was voicing the same thing Lily was thinking.

"But why do they even think he's a threat? He's just a little boy! He should be outside playing, not cooped up inside hiding in fear for his life."

"They're calling him the 'Boy-Who-Lived'," Remus supplied with a shrug. "Everyone thinks he has some sort of super human power because he's the only known survivor of the Killing Curse. Many people view that kind of power as a threat – even in a child."

"The _Killing _Curse?" Lily gasped and turned pale. "I remember … I remember hearing it right after James shouted for Jade and me to run. Then I heard the first blast. And I thought – I thought James was … but it was Caradoc Dearborn." Her eyes saddened at the scene that started to replay in her mind. "Poor Carrie, then Vold – and then he came into the nursery and he … he looked so evil. Oh my gods - Jade!"

"What about Jade?" James asked gently coming to squish in the chair beside her.

"That's why the blood wards still worked around Privet Drive. It wasn't me... it was Jade! James, you had it wrong, the evil wizard didn't kill Jade first and then turn on the Princess and Princelet. He focused on Harry and me. I doubt if he even saw Jade in the room. He told me to step aside, away from Harry in his crib, and that if I did … I could live."

James wrapped his arm around her and held her tight while the painful memory came bubbling to the surface.

"But I wouldn't. I couldn't. Not my baby! Not my son! I told him no, to take me instead. He pointed his wand at me, and I heard him say the curse … and then Jade ..."

"What about Jade?" James asked, curious himself. He always wondered what had really happened in the nursery that night. Up until now, he had just pieced her part of the story together with educated hunches.

"She pushed me aside at the last second and took my place in front of his wand. She sacrificed herself for me and for Harry. That's why the blood wards worked."

"Jade Nichols? But it takes a blood relative sacrifice for that kind of strong protection magic." Remus asked confused.

"Jade was blood. She was my cousin … Jade _Evans_ Nichols."

"Oh Lily, I am so sorry." Remus said gently. "James told me about Cary and his fiancé but I didn't know …"

"I didn't either, until that night. I knew I had a cousin somewhere in America, but our families had lost touch when we were small, and I never knew where she was. When Cary brought her to dinner to introduce her as his fiancé, we were surprised at how similar we looked."

"Not possible - there isn't anyone who can hold a candle to you Lily," Remus smiled.

"Yes possible - almost like twins," James said looking up at Remus. "When we found out Jade had been born in England and had the same birthday as Lily's sister, I kidded them that since they both had flower names maybe the nurses got them confused at the hospital, and switched them at birth."

"That got us to comparing family trees and we realized the true connection," Lily continued. "Our fathers were brothers and were very close until her family moved. She was very young at the time, and soon after moving to America, her parents, my uncle and aunt, died in a house fire."

"Neighbours saved Jade, and two of them, a very nice couple named Nichols, took her in. She tried to tell them about us, but she was so little she couldn't make them understand how to contact us. Sadly, they died as well, and left her an orphan a second time at eleven. Right before he – he came – she was telling me that she always longed for a sister, and how alone in the world she had felt until meeting Cary - and then meeting us. Then when she pushed me aside, she shouted at him that she loved her family too much to let him kill us, not after she had finally found us again." Lily's voice grew so soft Remus and James had to strain to hear.

James squeezed her hand, giving her the courage to finish. "The last thing I remember is Jade saying she loved us as she pushed me. When I fell, it felt like my head exploded."

"So that's what happened." James said comforting her in his arms. "I really didn't know since I was knocked out, I only guessed. Jade's sacrifice not only protected Harry but you too. Her protection must have been how you survived in the flames untouched until Padfoot got you out. I'm glad we gave Holly 'Jade' as a middle name."

"So am I. I would have liked to have had gotten to know her better. I only got to talk with her for a few hours but we connected immediately, as if we had known each other our entire lifetimes. Even in that short time, she seemed closer to me than my own sister had been. At least since Petunia found out I was a witch," Lily said wistfully. "But Harry? Remus, do you mean that You-Know-Who did you-know-what to … to my baby Harry too? Like he did to Cary and Jade?"

Remus nodded and pointed at his forehead. "You know that scar of his, the one that you two have been trying so hard to get rid of with that Dittany salve?"

Lily nodded.

"Well I think you might as well ease off. It's not going to work. In fact he is famous for it, that's where he was hit by the curse."

"Oh my … It's true then. I wish I didn't still have so many blanks …" She paused in thought. "What about Dumbledore?"

"What about him?" James asked with a snort.

"Well ... Remus didn't you say that you thought he was the one who left Harry with my sister Petunia?"

"That's my guess," Remus confirmed.

"So if Harry is that important to the wizarding world, why would Dumbledore have left him with muggles? Especially Petunia - blood protection or not. Why didn't he just keep him at Hogwarts? There's no better protected place than there."

"I can't even guess," James said jumping back into the conversation. "Dumbledore always played his cards close to the vest. Being the old codger that he is, he doesn't have many peers left that he considers equals. Everyone else he always treated like children who couldn't possibly comprehend all the nuances of his intricate plots. Even Professor McGonagall, who must be in her seventies by now, is only half his age. I bet he doesn't even tell her everything either."

"The Order of the Phoenix then … surely they must be doing something!" Lily said desperately. "There has to be someone left somewhere …"

"From what Remus and I researched, except for just a few, the rest of the order seem to have either been killed, driven insane, or went underground. There doesn't seem to be many left."

"Well not of the old group anyway. However seeing as it's a secret organization it's not exactly as if Dumbledore published a membership list on the front page of the Daily Prophet to go by. There could be more than we think. In fact, I'm sure he's recruited more. He wouldn't let the movement die. If he had - Death Eaters would already be openly running things, and they are not." Remus pointed out logically.

"But if we don't know who they are … how do we know whom we can trust? What are we going to do? How are we going to protect Harry and Holly without help?"

"I don't know Lily," James said holding her tight. "But we'll figure it out somehow."

"We're not much, but I think I can safely speak for Padfoot as well, when I say that you two aren't alone in this, we'll both do all we can. With one of us above, and one of us below, you're surrounded by family to help protect them."

"Family," James and Lily echoed including him in their hug.

One floor up Sirius repeated the sentiment only with another sentiment in mind.

"Family? How did a normal word like 'family' get on this list?" he frowned and tucked baby Holly in the crook of his arm. His brow was wrinkled in concentration as he looked at the paper that Harry had handed him. "Hm … this is a mighty peculiar vocabulary list. All I can say is that you have one seriously demented teacher. Are you sure that he said you're supposed to use _all_ of these words? All at the _same_ time?"

"Yup, that's what he said." Harry answered hanging over the arm of the couch and peering over Sirius' shoulder at the list. "And he said they had to be coherent. That's VERY important ... what's coherent?"

"Um … it's something sticky … I think …" Sirius' brow furrowed deeper, "Er … maybe we better look it up in a dictionary to be sure. I think I saw some reference books over there, somewhere, maybe ..." Sirius indicated the other room with a vague off-handed wave of his hand.

Harry ran into the bedroom and brought back the unused dictionary that Dudley had discarded when he packed the night before.

In the meantime, Sirius had dug a pencil and pad out of Harry's book bag.

"Let's see now … c … co … cof ... cog … coh … um … coher … no that's not the right definition … ah here it is. The very next one in the book … you must have heard wrong."

"I don't think so …," Harry said doubtfully. After his mummy called him on not listening carefully in class, he'd been trying harder to pay attention.

"You must have, its 'cohesive' not 'coherent'. See? Right here - 'Cohesive': producing cohesion … okay so cohesion – now what's that?"

Harry sighed. He didn't know what that word meant either, but he was sure the word was coherent, not cohesive or cohesion. They really didn't even sound that close!

"Okay here it is ...," Sirius continued on his literary quest. "… um ... 'Cohesion: the process of sticking together tightly'. Aha! I was right! Sticky, just like glue … sticky, just like you!" he said and blew a kiss on Holly's jam smeared cheek, making her laugh.

"We had peanut butter and strawberry jam sammies for lunch, didn't we? Of course, yours was all jam, and you're still wearing it," he said tickling her again.

"Yuck!" Harry said making a face and gagging noises. "Peanut butter? How gross!"

"No such thing, it's quite tasty. Remus got hooked on it while he was travelling in America, and went out and found us a jar, Skippy® Peanut Butter to be precise. I suppose, it must be an acquired taste," Sirius shrugged.

"I think it tastes like something that has already been chewed up and spit out."

"You just haven't had the best kind then, nice and smooth, and sweet and creamy. Yum! It reminds me of something … what is it? ... Hm … OH MERLIN! I know what it reminds me of - it tastes just like the slop they fed me in Azkaban! You're right - it is gross!"

Sirius looked so startled that Harry started laughing uncontrollably.

"Laugh all you want to kiddo, you get to finish it now that you've turned my stomach against it." Sirius threatened, and then laughed when Harry looked as startled as he just had himself a moment before. "Maybe we can talk your mum into baking it into peanut butter biscuits for us, and then we can both finish it off."

"Yeah!" Harry agreed vehemently feeling like he just ducked out of a nasty punishment. "That ought to improve it."

"It'd certainly be less sticky that way … or should I say less cohesive?"

"Are you sure cohesive is right? Mr. Nathraichean doesn't like glue AT ALL. He even locked all of ours up in the craft cupboard! I don't think he would use a word like that, and I really thought he said 'coherent' … isn't that a different word?" Harry asked, shaking his head doubtfully.

"It must be cohesion, its right here in the dictionary, in black and white. See?" He said tapping the page with the eraser end of the pencil.

Harry looked closer but it still didn't convince him, and he shook his head.

"But don't you see? It makes the most sense." Sirius tried to explain it from his point of view. "You said he wants you to use all these words at the same time. Right? The only thing he could mean then is to use them all stuck together in the one sentence. It'll be a bit of a challenge, but we can do it."

"Alright..." Harry agreed reluctantly.

"Okay! Gimme that list again." Sirius said cheerfully wetting the tip of his pencil.

"You just better not be getting me into trouble with Mr. Nathraichean, like you did with the essay," Harry added after a moment's thought.

"Is this the same blighter that doesn't believe in luck?"

"Yeah …" Harry sighed deeply. "He's the one."

"Heh-heh-heh … well we proved him wrong on that one didn't we? You know, there's even a little known potion you can brew for luck, _Felix Felicis_. When your mum lets me out of this plushy cushy prison she tucked me into, we might just have to whip up a batch and have us a little Uncle-Teacher conference to set him straight."

"Er … that's okay. It's really not necessary Uncle Siri," Harry assured him quickly. He was already in enough trouble with Mr. Nathraichean. He certainly didn't need any more.

"Nonsense! It's the least I can do."

As much as he loved his uncle, Harry didn't think his intervention on his behalf would help matters. Somehow he just had the suspicion that his prankster uncle and his uptight teacher wouldn't hit it off. Thinking about that, Harry remembered something else that had been bothering him all afternoon, maybe Uncle Siri would know, and maybe talking about something else would make him forget about talking to his teacher.

Harry had wanted to bring up the subject of All Fool's Day anyway, because had been hoping that his mummy was right, and that maybe tonight his uncles would finally keep their promise and show him how to pull a prank on someone. It was something that they all obviously like to do quite a lot, so he wanted to be a part of it only his teacher had said it was wrong, and his parents had said to respect what the teacher said. However, it still sounded like fun. Besides, he had a feeling that just like the Dursleys, his teacher thought that most things that were fun were also wrong. He just wasn't sure how to start the conversation without sounding too naive.

"Um … Uncle Siri, can I ask you something?"

"Ask away kiddo, I am chock full of answers - and some of them are even right!" Sirius offered while erasing his latest version of the vocabulary sentence.

"Well, today in class my teacher said that not everyone liked pranks being pulled on them. He also said that pranks can hurt, and that they are mean. Are they?"

"Mean? Nonsense! Pranks are just all in good fun! And it's terrific training!"

"Training?"

"Sure, if you want to be a spy or some such thing, nothing like having a good prank pulled on you to teach you how to stay alert and on your toes at all times. To be a top-notch prankster it takes quite a lot of skill. You have to be calm, cool and collected at all times, and your timing has to be impeccable. You have to pull it off before your victim … er … I mean the 'noodle' realizes what's happening."

"What's a noodle?"

"Heh-heh! That's the one you play the trick on, and you're a 'gob' if you try to fool someone, and get fooled instead."

"How does that happen?"

"How come you don't know most of this already?" Sirius asked curiously, "I mean, you're a normal boy, and all boys just naturally like to play pranks. It's part of our makeup. I'm been pulling them since I was in nappies myself. And it's not like you've lived your life in a cupboard or something."

Harry grew quiet. That was true, the Dursley's had let him out occasionally, but when they did, they never included him or answered his questions. They mostly just yelled at him and then put him to work doing chores. Then at school, Dudley made sure he didn't have any friends to play with, so he never had anyone else to ask. Moreover, for some reason none of his teachers had ever taught important stuff like this. Except for the occasional small trick, that Mrs. Figg taught him once a year, no one else had bothered to clue him in on any of it.

However, he really didn't like talking about it, in his head it all just sounded like lame excuses, so he ended up just shrugging and not saying a word.

Sirius felt badly when he noticed how quiet and withdrawn his little godson got at his question, and he didn't like the shuttered look his eyes took on either, so in an effort to rewind time he decided to just pretend that he never asked it. To cover the awkward silence, he proceeded to go overboard in answering Harry's question.

"Let's see now ... how do you become a fool when you intend the title for someone else? Mostly by trying to pull a prank too late, since All Fool's Day is well known for jokes and trickery, you have to do yours as early as possible, before the noodle realizes it's the first of April. In fact, it's bad luck to try to pull one after noon on that day. Do you know why?"

Harry shook his head 'no'.

"Because you seldom get away with it, that's why. If you wait until too late, then instead of doing the catching, you'll be the one caught instead. If that happens, then you're the one that's the fool. And nobody likes to be the fool or the 'gobby' as we like to say."

"No ... I don't think I'd like THAT at all!" Harry agreed.

"That's what makes pulling a prank on All Fool's Day itself so risky, but that's also what makes it all the more fun if you pull it off. Nevertheless, it's entirely fair to pull a prank on All Fool's Day. It's not mean at all, since all your potential noodles should be forewarned if they've bothered to look at the calendar lately, and if they haven't ..." Sirius shrugged, "… then they _should_ be fair game, because they left themselves wide open to be tricked by not paying attention to what day it is."

"Mr. Nathraichean says that 'just because it's All Fool's Day, it is not a license to run amuck'." Harry quoted doing an impression of his teacher lecturing tone of voice.

"Mr. Nathraichean sounds like he has aphrilophobia," Sirius replied thinking that he had run into that same snarky tone somewhere before.

"What's that?"

"It's what they say you have when you have a fear of All Fool's Day."

"How do you know all this?"

"I've had great experience being both the fooler and the foolee. Your teacher was probably publically embarrassed once over something utterly silly and trivial, and he never got over it. Just like another uptight blighter I can think of," Sirius said snidely.

"Who's that?"

"Heh-heh-heh! Let's not worry your young head over that prat, and it's enough discussion of your Mr. Nathraichean as well, at least until we have our little Uncle-Teacher conference and I can size him up properly. Right now let's see to finishing this homework assignment so we can go play …"

Harry rolled his eyes. Uncle Siri hadn't forgotten, but he had at least two days before he had to think about that pending disaster again. If he were lucky, his mummy would keep shooting Uncle Siri with stay-in-bed spells until school was out for the summer.

"Sirius! Come down for tea. You may get up now for a little while, and bring my children down with you." Lily called up the stairs with satisfaction. These 'home improvements' were going to come in handy, she mused to herself as the trio trekked down the spiral staircase, Holly tucked happily under Sirius' arm like a football. One of these days, she might even admit it to James.

"Thanks for finally letting me get up Lily," Sirius said grumpily. "I was about to go stark raving nutters! I was just trying to stretch my legs some, so there was no call for a full body bind. You're treating me as though you think I'm a two-year-old, who doesn't know any better. No more spells on me. Okay? I can take care of myself so you're not really helping at all."

Sirius pretended to growl at the treatment, but was secretly pleased that someone cared enough to make sure he took care of himself. It had been a quite a while since anyone had, and even longer since he felt like doing it himself.

It hadn't been quite two weeks since Sirius' eventful birthday on Saint Patrick's Day, when he reunited with his family of friends, but he already felt stronger and clearer of mind. Lily's tender loving care had done wonders for him. His hollow cheeks had started to fill back in, and the grey cast to his skin which had made him look like a starved thestral, was taking on a more human glow.

Lily smiled benevolently upon her petulant patient. "If you're going to act like a two-year-old, you shall be treated as such. Maybe next time I say 'no' you will listen."

"Yes Ma'am," Sirius said huffily. Flopping down in a chair at scrubbed wood table, he started absentmindedly bouncing baby Holly on his knee while he sulked, Holly taking the opportunity to get his attention back by spitting up all over his robes. When her doggy-man just looked at her as if she had betrayed him, she looked back with her big green eyes and cooed at him totally unapologetic. When a girl gets carried upside-down, and then bounced, things like that tend to happen.

"So you agree with your mother? Then be off with you." Sirius said holding her up to Lily's waiting arms.

"It's time for her to put her down for a nap while we eat anyway." Lily laughed and handed him a damp cloth to wipe off his clothes.

"What? You expect me to clean it up … _myself_? With this? Like a muggle? It'll just rub it around. My robe will smell like baby spit-up for days this way!" Sirius looked shocked. "Why not just charm it off for me?"

"Oh? Wasn't it you who just demanded 'no more spells' cast your way? Consider your demand granted," She said laughing as she carried Holly off to her crib.

"That is one evil woman. What I need is my wand back," Sirius grumbled dabbing at the mess until Remus quit laughing long enough to take pity on him and cast a surreptitious '_Scourgify'_ when Lily wasn't looking.

"We do need to take care of that," Remus agreed. "We need to clear your name. Get you back into your life."

"Have you come up with a way to do that?" Sirius quirked a sceptical eyebrow at him, "I was in that god forsaken place for eight years and couldn't come up with a way - short of finding the rat that put me there to begin with. James and Lily being alive would dismiss the charge that I caused their deaths, and their testimony that Wormtail was the Secret Keeper not I, would prove that I didn't betray them. Nevertheless, there is still that teensy-tinsy matter of Wormtail's so-called 'death' by my hand. Also, don't forget the dozen muggles that they say I was responsible for killing at the same time. It's been eight years, if he was going to show his rat face again, he would have done it by now."

"Possibly, but Peter wasn't known for his bravery. It always made me wonder how he got into Gryffindor to begin with," Lily remarked coming back into the room. "There were other students who would have fit much better that went to other houses."

"You mean Snape, don't you?" James questioned softly, looking up from the floor where he sat cross-legged with old newspapers strewn all around him.

"Yes I mean Sev. You know I do. I still don't know why you picked on him so much in school. All those pranks - I thought you'd drive me mental over how childish you were about it." She shook her head. "It's one of the reasons I kept turning you down."

"You keep forgetting that the animosity went both ways," James pointed out.

"I think if either of you had given each other half a chance you would have seen at least some of the good qualities I saw in both of you. Don't give me that old Gryffindor versus Slytherin bull again. I didn't buy it then, and I don't buy it now."

"But Mummy …?" Harry was just too confused and he finally had to ask. Maybe his teacher was right after all, because now it sounded as though his mummy disapproved of pranks too.

"What sweetie?"

"Didn't you and Daddy say that pranks really weren't bad? That they were just another way to tell someone you liked them, because you care enough about them not to ignore them? So maybe Daddy and this Snape-man really ... er ... love each other? ... a lot?"

Harry didn't have a clue as to why his simple question brought snorts of laughter from his uncles, or why his daddy started to choke on air. It seemed logical to him.

"From the mouths of babes …" Sirius laughed pounding James on the back.

"They do say there is a fine line between love and hate." Remus said wiping a tear from his eye.

"Shush!" Lily scolded them, and then turned to her son and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Pranks can be fun, but it has to be a two-way street, and both parties have to like each other well enough to not take offense. If you pull them on someone that you don't like, it is just flat being a bully, and that is not a nice thing to be. I don't ever want to hear that you were a bully. Okay?"

"Okay Mummy," Harry agreed slowly.

What his mummy had just said, made what his teacher had said earlier, make more sense. Maybe they were both saying the same thing after all. He was relieved that perhaps his teacher didn't have good cause after all to think his mummy was mean, but he was still concerned about what his teacher would think of his daddy and uncles. He wasn't sure if Mr. Nathraichean would approve of his family at all. It was best to not find out - best to keep them apart. Harry broke eye contact with his mummy to look his daddy. James was trying to tackle both his uncles at the same time to stop them from laughing. Harry mentally amended his plans of keeping his family and teacher apart, to keeping them VERY FAR apart.

Noticing the lingering doubt on his face, Lily asked, "What'cha thinking about sweetie?"

"Er ... nothing really ... I was just wondering about Daddy ..."

Misreading the reason for his trepidation she added, "Don't worry Harry. I still love your father even if he was a bully to my friend, and I will love you no matter what you do too. I may not be happy about it, but I will still love you. Nothing will ever change that."

"You're right Lily," James said shamefacedly hearing the comment and coming up for air. "I was an arrogant bully. I treated Snape like a second-class citizen. Not because he was a Slytherin, but just because he was poor and I was the 'Great James Potter' and I could. After living like a muggle, and a poor one at that, for the past two years, I finally realize what a complete git I was. I've been seeing myself in some of those 'bosses' I've been taking orders from for minimum wage, and I didn't like what I saw. I have no idea why you ever married me once, let alone twice."

"The first time I said 'yes' because I could also see all the good in you, just like I could Sev, and it far outweighed the bad." Lily said lovingly pulling him up to his feet so she could hug him.

"And the second time?" he asked leaning in and whispering in her ear.

"Um …" she paused to think, tapping her lip with her finger and wrinkling her brow, "… massive brain trauma?"

"Sounds reasonable," Remus said at the same time that Sirius chimed in with a "Wasn't that really the reason the first time too?" quip as they all settled down companionably around the scrubbed wood table for tossed green salad and pot roast.

Listening to the light banter with a keen ear, Harry focused in on what his daddy had said and started to worry again. _'Daddy said he didn't like someone just because he was poor? I'm poor... I wonder if Daddy feels the same way about me...'_

Harry filed the disturbing thought away, right next to the one about his teacher disliking him. Even though Harry had seen all the gold in the Gringott vault, it held little meaning for him. It was too surreal. Besides, in his eyes it wasn't his - it was his daddy's and mummy's. As far as he was concerned, since he had no coins in his own pockets, he was still as poor as when he had to live in the cupboard under the stairs on Privet Drive without a toy to call his own.

Growing up, his relatives had told him repeatedly that just because he lived in the house it didn't mean that anything in it was his, or that he had any right to share it, use it, eat it, touch it, or even look at it without express permission of those who had the right. And those that did seldom thought he deserved to have permission granted. Since his parent's hadn't bothered to counter any of those strictly enforced rules yet, as far as he knew, they still held true.

"Wait just a minute!" Lily exclaimed dropping her salad fork, and turning to look sharply at James. "A few minutes ago ... did you finally admit that you weren't fair to Sev?"

"I already admitted it, and you didn't make a big fuss then. Why do it now?" James shrugged nonchalantly.

"When?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"Last Christmas Eve … remember when I told you the story?"

"But you said it was because you were jealous, not because you were a total prat."

"A total prat? I thought I was just a git, but I suppose I was a prat too."

"Then say it," Lily demanded poking him in the chest with a sharp finger. "Admit it once and for all. All of it."

"Okay, I was a complete git and a total prat, a prejudiced jealousy-filled bullying arrogant unfair little berk, who abused those who didn't deserve it, by playing cruel pranks on them, particularly one Severus Snape of Slytherin House. I am not proud of it - he deserved better."

"But he was just Snivellus!" Sirius complained loudly. "What happened to you Prongs? I never thought I would hear you say that snake mattered. Why do you care?"

"I grew up," James said simply.

'_Uh oh …' _Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. _'Severus Snape!' _He knew that name! That was who Cosmos … uh … Uncle Siri told him to say was his dad when they followed the rainbow to Gringotts. That was whom they charged all their expenses to for the trip without his permission. Uncle Siri said that it was just a little prank and that nobody would get upset, but his mummy didn't seem too happy with the thought of someone playing a prank on this particular person …

"What about you two?" Lily turned a critical eye on Remus and Sirius. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Sirius just tilted his chair back on two legs and looked at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

"Hey, don't look at me. I wasn't the one who played pranks on him." Remus held up his hands in protest. "I'm indebted to Severus for more than I can ever repay. I've grovelled sincere apologies at his feet more times than what I can count, and I'd do it again if I knew where he was. Besides, it wasn't as if I was really myself that night …" Remus ended weakly.

"You three never did tell me how Sev came to find out about Remus in the first place. Seems to me you told me once that Dumbledore had set up safeguards to keep the other students from finding out, and to keep them away from Remus during the full moon. As the Marauders wouldn't have outed him for the world, it_ also_ seems to me, that being the case, Sev should have never found out."

James and Remus both looked at Sirius, and then at each other, and said "Wrakspurdt!" in unison. They had never told Lily the full story of that night, the night that they now only referred to in code as the 'Wrakspurdt Incident'. The incident happened when they were all students at Hogwarts and Sirius had taken a prank one step too far. The result being that Severus Snape stumbled into a very dangerous situation - one that could have taken his life, or at minimum caused him great bodily harm.

Afterwards, Severus was so angry with all of them, and so incensed at the thought the Headmaster had let them off too easy, that they never got the chance to make amends. Their apologies weren't enough for the wronged boy and his unwillingness to accept them, let alone even listen to them, just fed their rivalry and made the rift between them grow even wider. So wide, that Severus never got close enough to Lily again to tell his side of the story.

James knew that Lily had a right to know, but was now the time to come clean? Sirius was just barely holding it together as it was, what good would it do to heap more guilt on him when he was already so vulnerable mentally? Would it really serve any useful purpose? He didn't think so, especially not in front of a very impressionable nine-year-old with big ears who idolized his Uncle Siri. Neither James nor Remus was so sure they wanted to diminish themselves in his young eyes either.

"Wrackspurts? That sounds familiar …" Sirius frowned and got up from the table to start rifling through the piles of newsprint James had left abandoned on the floor. "Didn't the Quibbler have an article on wrackspurts? Aha! Yes! Here it is," he gloated coming back and starting to read.

"Wrackspurts … let's see now … invisible … uh huh, check … floats into your head through your ears, check…" As Sirius read that sentence, he stuck a finger in one ear and wiggled it around making Harry laugh. "Makes your brain fuzzy, check … Fuzzy brains! Heh-heh! Now that is funny! Hey! Is that what you think? You looked at me when you said that! Are you insinuating that I have fuzzy brains? Do you think my head is infested with rampaging wrackspurts?"

"No we said '_wrak-spurdt'_, an entirely different thing. No 'c', just a 'k'," James explained.

"And an extra 'd'," Remus added. "Don't forget the 'd'."

"True, can't forget the 'd'," James agreed. "Spelling is important, isn't it son?"

"Er … yeah Daddy. At least Mr. Nathraichean thinks so that's why he gave us spelling homework. He says no one will take us seriously if we can't spell atrocious."

"See there, Sirius? Spelling is important, it's been verified by a professional educator."

"Okay … I guess it's alright then," Sirius said uncertainly.

"Not so fast. I don't think so," Lily said slowly recognizing the ploy, "they're just trying to change the subject - you can tell by all the double talk."

"Um … Lils?" James motioned to her to lean over so he could whisper in her ear.

"Wrakspurdt stands for **W**hen-**R**emus-**A**lmost-**K**illed-**S**nivellus-because-**P**adfoot-**U**sed-a-**R**eally-**D**irty-**T**rick. I'm not sure if this is the time to get into it. I've already tarnished my own image, why compound it?" James nodded at Harry who was actively listening to the adult's exchange with extreme interest.

"You're right James," Lily whispered back, berating herself the conversation had already gone this far in front of Harry. Having been through so much in such a short lifetime, her son's soul sometimes seemed older than it was, and it made them tend to forget that he was only nine-going-on-ten, rather than twenty-nine going on thirty. "But mark my words James Potter this is _not_ the end of it. We _will_ finish this conversation later."

"Yes my love. But for now, I'm more interested in Harry's spelling homework." James said standing up and starting to clear the dishes. "Why don't we all adjourn to the living room while he tells us all about it? Nothing like a group project for family togetherness!"

"Er … that's okay Daddy. I really should finish it myself. My teacher didn't like it that Aunt Petunia helped Dudley with the last assignment, so he'd probably like it even less if all of you helped me with mine. Besides, this time I paid attention, and Uncle Siri already gave me some pointers, so …"

"So you don't want our help?" James tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Uh … not really … if that's okay?"

"Sure son, I just missed you all day while you were at school, and you said you were going to do it tonight ... so thought it might be fun to do it together. However, I understand. You're right. You should do the work yourself, that's how you learn," he said turning his back and carrying the dishes to the sink. After a quick spell started them washing, he went to the living room and sat down dejectedly in the big comfy chair. You could almost see the gloomy clouds starting to gather over his head.

"I could do it tomorrow instead," Harry said quietly, coming up to his daddy touching him shyly on the arm. "I do have all weekend."

"Really? Then I could show you how to play exploding snap!" James perked right up again. "I brought home some ice cream at the market, and Lily baked a cake. I thought that maybe we could celebrate! But of course if you would rather do homework …"

"Celebrate? It isn't a holiday, is it? Is it somebody's birthday?" Harry asked curious.

"Pshaw! We don't need a holiday to celebrate, but I suppose you could say it was a birthday of sorts, the birth of a new life, with all the riff-raff out of it, once and for all. We're going to celebrate the Dursleys and that before I handed over the keys to their front door that I got an 'ernon' out of them!" James proudly waved some documents in the air, just as Lily walked in after putting Holly down to sleep. She gasped at his words.

"What's an 'ernon' Daddy?" Harry asked hesitantly. He couldn't think of anything to do with the Dursleys that would be a cause for celebration. And despite the smile on her face, his mummy now had tears running down her cheeks. Mummy was crying! That proved it! Whatever an 'ernon' was - it couldn't be good.

"Yeah Prongs - what's that? Some sort of muggle disease?" Sirius echoed, equally puzzled by their nonsensical words.

"For your edification my unknowledgeable friend, an 'ernon' is the rest of my brother-in-law's signature. I even got the 'Dursley' part for good measure and an extra signature on a blank paper just in case we forgot anything important. All signed with his own freewill I might add."

"He couldn't sign fast enough in his hurry to get rid of us before the neighbours saw us standing on his porch," Remus laughed. "He was even going to 'waste his own ink', as he put it, to sign it, but James made him use mine instead even though he was loathe to touch a quill."

"What difference would it have made?" Sirius asked.

"Mine is charmed against disappearing ink, and anything else on the parchment that might negate a contract. You can't be too careful when negotiating to buy wolfsbane on the black market. Since this was even more important, I offered it to James. We didn't want Dursley changing his mind, or doing something to nullify it at the last minute."

"We've had to deal with the unpleasant residual side effects from our last attempt long enough," James agreed wholeheartedly.

"This time we just wanted to make sure there weren't any more bad ramifications hanging around – if you know what I mean," Remus said smugly with a big wink to Harry as James handed the papers over to Sirius to read.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" Sirius asked sharply, looking over Harry's fearful head to James, who was grinning so hard by this time that his face hurt. The other two adults just nodded. Lily was blatantly sobbing with happiness. Even Remus' eyes were shiny with moisture. "So this means that legally … Harry belongs to …"

Harry held his breath and covered up his ears. Now even Uncle Remmy was crying! Now he knew he absolutely didn't want to hear it! He finally had his own family and now they were going to get rid of him! They had said they wanted him forever, but they hadn't meant it! They got Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's house all fixed and now he had to go back there too. He was just a bad ramification that needed to be dealt with. They thought he was bad and they didn't want him hanging around them anymore!

He hadn't meant to make his daddy upset by saying he wanted to do his own homework, or his mummy for pouting when she picked him up from school instead of Uncle Siri. He really hadn't meant to be so whingey, about Uncle Siri not being a dog, or about Uncle Remmy not playing with him when he was sick from eating pies. Looking back on it, he had to admit that he had been whingey, selfish, and ungrateful, all the things against which Aunt Petunia had always warned him.

'_If they would just let me stay a little while longer_,' he thought,_ 'I will never ever complain again, about anything at all, for as long as I live.'_

"Yes, things are finally going to be how they should be," James cut in excitedly before Sirius could complete voicing his thought of _'… you and Lily until he's old and grey.'_

"Having all the _real_ freaks back on Privet Drive is just the first step," James continued. "Soon everything will be in its place, where it rightfully belongs. And I mean _everything _this time," he said hinting that getting Sirius' name cleared would be the next priority.

"I'm so happy, to get this behind us," Lily added, "and that means that Harry won't be Harry…_'Krueger'_ anymore," she said imitating the way that Harry said his teacher pronounced his name, complete with the air quotes.

"I-I won't?"

"No Sweetie, so you'll have no more need to go on any more trips to Gringotts, which is good thing, since you're still grounded for life for the last caper."

"Heh-heh! But worth every minute of it, huh Harry?" Sirius said nudging him playfully with his elbow. "But don't worry old chap, the time will go by in a snap. Being locked up for the rest of your life won't be pleasant, I grant you that, but I can think of a lot worse prisons," he teased, not realizing how his little godson had interpreted his words.

Harry just looked from one adult to the other as his heart sank.

He was right. He had been bad and they were sending him back to his aunt and uncle for them to punish him for all the trouble he'd caused. Uncle Vernon would throw him in his cupboard, lock the door, and then lose the key. Just as Dudley had said would happen if they ever got their hands on him again, right after they squashed the rest of the magic out of him, just to be absolutely sure he wouldn't be able to escape again.

Apparently, his parents agreed with the Dursleys, and decided he needed squashing flat too. They must have finally figured out that he was the freak of Privet Drive, and they didn't want him anymore, so they were sending him back to a worse prison than even Uncle Siri had been in - his dark little cupboard. He swallowed hard at the thought, and fought back the tears.

His Uncle Vernon had demanded the house be exactly as before, so his cupboard would be the same too – rough, and dark, and stuffy - and waiting for him. He would miss the cosy little bedroom he shared with Holly, with its comfy bed, warm blankets, and soft pillow. Sadly, he couldn't take them with him - they wouldn't fit. Stoically he slipped out of the room unnoticed. He was NOT going to cry in front of them.

"Don't tease Harry," Lily admonished Sirius sternly. "And I must say that I am glad you like your new 'prison', because so are you."

"So am I what?"

"Grounded for life."

"You can't ground me! I'm thirty years old!"

"Oh yes I can." Lily pulled out her wand. "Try me."

"All right! All right! Back off woman!"

Sirius backed away from her in shock until he was flat against the wall.

"Then promise me."

"Whatever! Just no more body-bind spells! I really can't take any more of them." Sirius dropped to his knees pleading. Then he caught the mischievous glint that sparkled in Lily's eyes so he added peevishly in a singsong voice (with his fingers crossed behind his back), "I promise to do what I'm told Mummy."

"Alrighty then, good boy." Lily patted the top of his head as she went by to fetch the pudding from the kitchen. Coming back a few minutes later with a tray loaded down with dishes of ice cream and cake she stopped handing them out abruptly when she got to the last dish and had no Harry to hand it to.

"Where's Harry?"

"He was right there a minute ago. Maybe he went to check on Holly. Ooo I love chocolate cake!" James said diving into his slice with gusto.

"I'll check. I'm sure he won't want his ice cream to melt." Remus, being the closest to the children's bedroom door, went over and peeked in.

"Harry! Come get your pudding! It's melting fast! If you don't eat it, I will!" James hollered from his spot on the floor where he looked sadly into his now empty bowl. Leaning back against the comfy chair, where Lily had taken up residence with her own bowl of chocolate ice cream, he reached for Harry's on the tray.

"Oh no you don't! That's Harry's!" Lily said slapping his hand.

"Shush! I think he's asleep already," Remus said quietly re-closing the door.

"Oh noooooo! Wake him back up! I forgot to ask him how lunch went!" Sirius wailed.

"Lunch? What about lunch?" Lily asked suspiciously.

"Ah … nothing, nothing at all," Remus said evasively giving Sirius a signal to shut up.

"Yes there was Moony! Don't tell me you've gotten so old you can't remember anything? It was great Lily! We wanted to show Harry how much fun a prank could be, so we decided to start his lessons in Pranking 101 with a small demonstration."

"A demonstration? I'm not sure I like the sounds of that. Just what did you do?"

"Heh-heh! If it went off it like we planned would have been so funny! We put a…"

Remus clamped his hand over Sirius' mouth, and shook his head at him.

"Something tells me I shouldn't have asked," Lily said wisely.

"If history repeats itself - probably not," Remus agreed letting go of Sirius.

"But I want to know what happened! I WANT TO KNOW RIGHT NOW!" Sirius demanded impatiently at the top of his lungs.

"It can wait Padfoot," Remus said reasonably. "Harry isn't going anywhere. He's a growing boy - let him sleep."

"It's funny though … he didn't even say goodnight." James frowned. "I thought he'd be as excited about being adopted, as we are about adopting him. I figured he'd be so wound up he wouldn't be able to sleep at all. We were going to play games, eat ice cream, and stay up till dawn since it wasn't a school night. I had it all planned."

"You're as bad as Sirius," Lily laughed. "Don't pout, the excitement probably just overwhelmed him. It's already past his normal bedtime. Here … you might as well eat it," Lily placated him by feeding him some of Harry's ice cream.

"Shouldn't we go tuck him in anyway?" James asked licking the spoon clean.

"I'd let him sleep. If you go in now you'll just wake him up, and if he went to bed without being told, he obviously needs it. Besides, it's getting late. I'm getting tired myself. Bed sounds real good," Remus advised with a big yawn.

"Does that mean we all have to go to bed too?" Sirius whinged. "I've been sleeping all day. I want to play! You promised!"

"Okay, okay. But just one game," Remus agreed. "Then it's time for bed."

Spirits renewed, James laughed at his bickering friends and they all settled down in the living room for a game of exploding snap. The lively game even managed to keep Remus awake long past the one promised game.

One round lead to another and soon they launched into an even more competitive version with Marauder rules or rather lack of them. Their version involved multiple decks, a copious amount of chocolate bars, mass confusion, loud shouting, occasional bursts of an off-key song, firewhiskey, outrageous dares, and a lot of betting of vast sums and that no one could afford to pay off on.

It wasn't until the wee morning hours that Remus and Sirius retired to their respective flats, and the Marauder Mansion grew quiet again.

After checking on the sleeping Holly, Lily smoothed the bunched up blankets on Harry's bed, then perched lightly on the edge and studied her sleeping son. She didn't want to overreact to his odd behaviour, when there was probably a completely normal reason for it, but it bothered her that Harry went to bed without saying goodnight and wanting them to tuck him into bed.

Maybe he was coming down with something. She laid her hand on his forehead to check for a fever, and finding him cool and nothing apparently wrong, she started humming a soft lullaby as she gently carded her hand through his dark locks before sliding her hand under one of his. His small fingers automatically curling around hers.

"Such a sweet face," she said lovingly.

"And all ours again - every hair on his head," James added, kneeling down beside her and covering Harry's other hand with his big one, and then holding Lily's free one to complete the circle. "I keep thinking I'll wake up and find out it was all a dream, and that I still don't know where he is, and that horribly empty hole in my heart will be back."

Lily squeezed his hand in response, a fat tear running down her cheek.

"What's wrong Lily?"

"I'm just so ha-ha-happy," she hiccupped.

"I'll never understand women."

"That's okay, we prefer it that way, and it gives us an edge," she laughed giving his scruffy cheek a peck. Then tucking a small dangling foot under the cover, she left a kiss on her sleeping son's forehead, and sneaked quietly out of the room with James. Cuddling in each other's arms in the big comfy chair, they watched shooting stars out the picture window, until the call to slumber was too hard to resist. Blissfully happy with their little family, they stumbled into bed just as the rosy tendrils of dawn completed their reach around sky to paint the entire heavens as their own glorious canvas.

It was far past the noon hour the next day before any of the adult residents of the Marauder Mansion braved the attempt to open their eyes. Finally, the irresistible aroma of freshly brewed coffee, coaxed them to push off the covers, prop open their eyelids, and seek out its source. They were surprised by what they found.

After going to his room the night before, Harry forlornly packed into his book bag, the few things that he just couldn't bear to leave behind - a picture his Uncle Remmy had helped him take of his daddy and mummy holding his baby sister, his stuffed stag, and a jumper in soft green his mummy had knit just for him.

He knew he wouldn't have room in his tiny little cupboard for much else, so he didn't bother even looking at all the new playthings on his bookshelf. There was no point in even considering them as his aunt and uncle didn't think that he was good enough to deserve toys. They would just take them away and give them to Dudley, who in turn would just break them out of spite. Maybe when Holly got bigger she would like them.

With so few things to pack, it didn't take him long, and afterwards he sat on his bed and felt sorry for himself. Listening to the muted sounds of the merry banter coming from the living room, his heart hurt knowing soon it would be replaced with Aunt Petunia' high pitched screeching, Dudley's whinging, and Uncle Vernon complaining.

Harry sat very still and tried to memorize the sounds of their voices. He heard them call to him, but he didn't answer. He didn't feel like celebrating them sending him back to Privet Drive like defective merchandise - not one bit, he thought stubbornly, and he certainly wasn't going to make it easy for them.

One last night in his cheerful little room, with his beloved baby sister, was something he was not willing to give up easily. Therefore, when he heard footsteps approaching his door he kicked off his shoes and quickly dove under the covers, still fully clothed, and pretended to be asleep. The door creaked open and a beam of light from the other room fell across his face. His heart raced in anticipation of feeling a hand reach out and touch him, but then the door creaked again and the light went out. The adult's laughter floated in under the door causing a tear to slide silently down his cheek.

His dismal doldrums coloured his interpretation of the actions of the adults he had come to love. When none of them came to tuck him in, or to kiss him goodnight - and then hearing them laugh about that they didn't, cemented the misconceptions in his mind as horrible truths. He fell asleep believing that he was the waste-of-space that his Uncle Vernon had always called him, and that no one, not even his parents, wanted him.

After a restless night of tossing and turning, he finally got up just after dawn picked Holly up out of her crib. Sitting with her in the big wooden rocker, he fed her a bottle of warm milk while he did some more thinking. He decided to fight against being sent back to Privet Drive every way he could think of. If he showed them how helpful he could be, maybe they'd change their minds. He just didn't understand what went wrong. He had been so sure they were going to adopt him, he'd even bragged about it to his teacher.

"I really don't want to go back to the Dursley's. I want to stay here with you. I love you, and Mummy, and Daddy, and my godfathers. I don't want to leave. Will you help me Holly?" Harry heartbrokenly asked his baby sister.

Holly wasn't sure how much help she could be, but she didn't want her big brother going anywhere without her, so she waved her arms and legs and cooed her support at him.

"Thanks Holly. I knew I could count on you," Harry sobbed, cuddling the giggling baby to his chest. After changing her nappie, and making her a nice soft place on the floor for her to play where he could keep an eye on her, he decided on a plan of action. He started by cleaning all three flats as quietly as he could, except for the rooms where the adults were sleeping, taking special care to scrub the kitchen floor until it gleamed enough that even Aunt Petunia would have approved.

Satisfied with his housekeeping efforts, he fed Holly lunch and put her back down for a nap before starting on lunch preparations for the sleeping adults. He finally decided on making a platter of cold sandwiches since he really wasn't sure how much longer they would sleep. He made all their favourites, and even included a peanut butter sandwich for Uncle Remmy after remembering what Uncle Siri had said about his fondness for the brown gunk. The final touch was a large pot of freshly brewed coffee, and a platter of warm frosted brownies. As its aroma lured the adults out of bed, Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself.

In his attempt to change their minds about what to do with him, he decided he would just have to be as cheerful and helpful as he could be, and above all else - remember… Remember all of Aunt Petunia's lessons on respect and politeness. Remember all of Uncle Vernon's lessons about not whinging about anything. Lastly, remember all of lessons Dudley taught him on the value of staying out of the way and not being seen.

He thought maybe if he did all that, and didn't mention what they had said about sending him back, that they just might forget. After all, they were all so busy, and had so many much more important things about which to think. When they stumbled into the sparkling clean kitchen, he hid his feelings and turned to greet them all with a brilliant smile.

"May I get you something to eat?" he optimistically asked the four bleary eyed adults, hoping that they would be pleased with his humble offerings.

James was relieved to see his son so happy. Lily had been right, Harry was glad they had gone to the extra step to adopt him under the name Krueger so that they were finally a family no matter what. However, his cheerfulness this early was almost too blinding, causing James to squish his eyes tightly closed to keep out the glare of his smile, as he felt around for a chair to hold him up.

"Eat? As in food? You've got to be kidding," Remus croaked out, uncharacteristically cranky due to his self-inflicted hangover. "The crack of dawn is no time to be up cooking food. Why aren't you still in bed? Growing boys need their sleep. I just came upstairs to find out who was awake at such a god awful hour."

"You're funny Uncle Re … er … I mean Sir …" Harry's tongue stumbled, a bit nervous that he had upset them already. His plan was not getting off on a good foot. "It's almost one o'clock. Holly and I have already had breakfast _and_ lunch."

"Lunch? It's past lunch already? And you made sandwiches?" Lily asked a trifle guiltily that she had a bit of a lie-in instead of getting up and tending to her children. She was a bad, bad, mother, she thought. She had left her babies to fend for themselves while she slept - not a very nice way to start her first day as an officially legal mother of two.

"I did, Ma'am." Harry responded politely as he put a toasted bacon-lettuce-and-tomato sandwich onto a plate and placed it before her.

"That looks good … very good," Lily said disquieted by his uncharacteristic formality.

"I-I'm sorry they aren't hot," he apologized continuing to misread her emotions. "But I thought cold sandwiches might be best as I wasn't sure when you would be getting up."

His apologetic comment was like a knife to her heart, and she vowed to do better as her son efficiently served the rest of the adults their favourite sandwich. After pouring each a cup of hot black coffee, he put the rest of the pot and the plate of brownies on the table, before politely excusing himself to return to his room to work on his assignment.

"Was that Harry or a house-elf?" Sirius raised his head off the table long enough to ask.

"'m not sure, I had my eyes closed." James replied. "Was he short with bad eyesight and a rakish sort of hairstyle?"

"Yup – messy hair and glasses," Remus confirmed reaching for the pot and pulling it over to him. "I need a lot more coffee."

"Must have been him then. I wonder what he's up to, maybe he's pulling a prank on us, trying to take us off guard by springing it a day early. Maybe it's really morning and he's just trying to make us think its afternoon." James speculated then noticed the pot of coffee had moved. "Hey! Save some of that coffee for me!"

"Too bright out - not morning. Maybe he put salt in the sugar bowl. Classic but effective. What are you doing? Get your own James," Remus growled, "this pot is all MINE!"

"Wrong my friend. You still owe me sixty eight gazillion Galleons from last night. Consider this a down payment." James said pulling the pot over closer to him. "You know, the last time Harry was this helpful around the house he wanted a dog."

"Heh-heh! A dog! That was funny," Sirius laughed. "And you fell right into it too."

"You put him up to all those bizarre requests? I should have known."

"No, the sugar is sugar, and the salt is salt. You're right, he must want something." Lily mused feeling better thinking that all of this wasn't just because she was a horrible mum.

"Don't care right now. These sandwiches are delicious. Chicken with cheddar cheese, lettuce, and just the right amount of mayonnaise - just how I like them. I didn't realize I was so famished," James said taking another bite.

"Mine's ham and swiss and lots of spicy mustard - much better than chicken." Sirius supplied with a smirk. "How about yours Remus?"

"Peanut butter and strawberry jam, and Lily's is a BLT …"

"Yum… lightly toasted …" Lily mumbled between bites.

"Sorry … a _toasted_ BLT … so he hit all the fave's. Harry wants something alright."

"We adopted him, gave him a baby sister, two loving uncle, and got rid of the Dursley's. What more could he want? A baby brother?" James wiggled his eyebrows at his wife.

"That's it! I know what he wants!" Lily declared, ignoring him and reaching for a brownie.

"So do I …" James persisted with a sly grin.

"In your dreams," Lily said stuffing the brownie in his mouth to shut him up. "No listen, I really do think I know … Yesterday he was upset about Sirius not coming to pick him up from school …"

"Ha! I knew it! I _**am**_ the favourite uncle!" Sirius gloated.

"… as _Padfoot_. He wanted to play with his 'dog'," then noticing Remus' dejected look added, "and he was missing Remus too. I think he would have preferred spending time with either of you over his boring old mum."

Remus looked a lot happier, so he proposed, "We should get him a real pet. You did promise to get him one when we go back to the wizarding world. Why wait - why not now? If you surrender the rest of that coffee, I might be able to talk the landlord into it."

"Maybe a nice cat this time?" Lily suggested refilling his mug to the brim.

"He told me he didn't want a stupid old cat," Sirius supplied.

"Stupid? Cats are very intelligent animals. I used to have a cat, a yellow tiger striped one." Lily smiled remembering. "I called him Tiger Lily Cat, 'TLC' for short. I always wondered what happened to him. He just wandered away one day …"

"Wasn't that the same cat that James tried to transfigure into a lion as a mascot for the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"Is_ that_ what happened to him? You _killed _him?" Lily asked snatching the brownie out of James' hand just as he was about to put it in his mouth.

"I wouldn't say _killed _… er ... just ... _stuck …_ as part tiger part flower … actually it turned out there was no lion in him at all. Pity that - it was a right dismal transfiguration. Nevertheless, he was definitely alive, a little indignant maybe, with all those petals sticking out around his face, but alive. Last I saw, he was living quite happily in the Forbidden Forest."

"James Potter! I searched for _months_ for that cat!"

"What can I tell you? You didn't look in the right place. Now back to Harry's pet. No cat then?"

"Just know what he said, something about having his fill of cat pictures, and something about a Tufty Toes or a Snowy Paws." Sirius shrugged, "How about a pygmy puff? They're kind of cute."

"And give him more nightmares about fanged toe-eating dust bunnies?" James retorted.

"Then what are we going to get him?"

"I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it much. I had to give a two-week notice at my job, so I still have to go to work this afternoon and can't really go off pet shopping."

"I know!" Sirius said getting excited. "How about Remus and I do this one? We'll find him the perfect pet. It'll be our contribution to the celebration."

"No Sirius! You're still convalescing. I let you stay up way too late last night as it is," Lily frowned. "Besides you can't be seen out yet, you're still a wanted man. I don't want you to end up back in Azkaban."

"You're right of course, I don't want that either." Sirius sniffed and got up stiffly to announce, "I think I'll just go back upstairs now and take a nap. Eating lunch tired me out. That is - if it's alright with you, your Nurseship," he finished with a flourish of his hands and an elaborate mock bow to Lily.

"Of course … I'm sorry Sirius but it really is for the best."

Sirius just sniffed again looking hurt, scooped up the remaining brownies, and left.

Remus looked at the plate of crumbs remaining, and then at his friend's retreating feet disappearing through the ceiling hatch, and got up from the table as well. "Um … I think I better go check on him."

"Hey Remus …" James said as Remus started up the circular staircase, "… just make sure he doesn't get caught."

"I will," Remus grinned and disappeared up the stairs.

"James Potter!" Lily's mouth gaped open in shock. "You're letting them go? But he promised to do as I told him!"

"No he didn't … if I recall correctly he just promised to be good. That is an entirely different thing. Besides, they're going to do it anyway, and you know it."

"But what about him being grounded for life? I meant it!"

"You know as well as I do that as much as he acts like a kid, he is a grown man. We can't really stop him from doing something he wants to do, or from going someplace if he wants to go. I'm just grateful Remus is here to go along and keep him in line."

"You better pray they don't bring home a hippogriff," she snorted. "I am _**not**_ picking up after it!"

"Oh, no worries Rosie-posy … that'll be Harry's job." James flashed a cheesy grin as he disappeared out the front door to work, leaving Lily standing there, hands on her hips, looking royally put out.

One kilometre to the north, someone else stood with her hands on her hips looking put out as well. Peering down the street at the scene unfolding in the front garden of her obnoxious neighbours' house, Arabella Figg had to shake her head in disgust. The things she would do for the cause, but then again she always did enjoy a good prank. She only hoped Harry would forgive her for using his name in it without his permission, but it would be much more effective this way she chuckled. Anyway, if Harry knew, he would probably get a kick out of helping her play a trick on his 'loving' relatives.

Going over the game plan in her mind, she set up her foldout lawn chair, kicked off her slippers, got out her binoculars, and settled in for a long wait. Mr. Paws one of her kneazle jumped into her lap so he was within easy reach for stroking. Idly rubbing his silky tufts, she contemplated trying out for the Little Whinging Players next time they had auditions, as she had always fancied herself quite the actress.

Arabella had to wait the better part of the afternoon to put on her show, when finally, just as the Dursleys pulled into their drive for the third time that day, she saw Mr. Prentice her neighbour leaving his house to walk his Jack Russell terrier.

The stage could not have been more perfectly set, or the audience more ideal if she had planned it herself ... which, ha-ha, she did!

Shooing Mr. Paws homeward, she got up, stowed her paraphernalia behind a handy bush, stepped back into her carpet slippers, adjusted her housecoat a little more askew, and pulled a couple more tendrils of hair out of her bun for that beguiling 'ditzy frazzled' look she had carefully cultivated.

"Alright there?" Mr. Prentice greeted her warmly as he approached down the pavement.

"Oh Mr. Prentice! I'm so glad it's you! I just don't know what to do anymore. It's shameful! Utterly shameful, I'm certain there is something fishy about the whole thing! What if something illegal is going on? In _our _neighbourhood too! Oh my! What if this neighbourhood isn't safe anymore? What do you think I should do?"

"Whatever do you mean Mrs. Figg?" Mr. Prentice queried as he paused to find out what had his eccentric neighbour so fretful on such a beautiful peaceful Saturday afternoon.

"It's the Dursleys again! That's what I mean. Just look at them! I volunteered to be on the Neighbourhood Watch Committee, but I never expected to _actually_ have to watch anything, and no one ever said what I was to do if I was!" Arabella began wringing her hands in distress.

"I'm looking, but I'm afraid I still don't know what you mean."

His eyes following her pointing finger to where the red-faced heavy-set man and his thin horse-faced wife were unloading a pile of packages from the boot of their shiny new silver BMW. The couple's young son was throwing a temper tantrum on the lawn, whinging loudly enough for them to hear him quite clearly from across the street and several houses away.

The boy's issue seemed to be that he thought his parents needed to buy a bigger car, because despite three trips to the shops, they hadn't had room to bring him back all of the things he had asked for, and he was tired of waiting. His simpering mother placated him by saying that they would rush right back out and get the rest immediately. While the father just beamed at his son and proclaimed his 'Dudders' to be a 'man who knew what he wanted, and wasn't afraid to ask for it'. Overly indulgent parents spoiling their overly rotten child even more, was unpleasant to watch, but surely, it wasn't illegal.

"You know me, I'm not one to gossip, but I as a member of the Neighbourhood Watch I am obligated to keep my eyes open for unusual goings on, and I have an intuition something is just not right with that picture."

"How so?"

"For instance … where did all the money come from for those gifts that they're unloading right now?"

"Insurance settlement on the house?" Mr. Prentice guessed shrugging.

"It can't be. Don't you remember what happened in March?"

"March?" he asked mystified as if it was the first that he'd ever heard of such a month being included on the calendar.

"You remember … with the stolen cars … the last time they rebuilt their house? The police turned out and everything! Why I heard from their next-door neighbour that the Insurance Company nearly charged them with fraud, but when all the evidence disappeared overnight they had to drop the charges on the condition that the Dursley's reimbursed them for the monies they'd already paid out. There was even some big to-do about some vacation properties."

"Oh … that's right, I'd forgotten about that," he said starting to become a little intrigued himself. "Maybe they won the Lottery? No … that was a chap down Liverpool way …"

"All I'm saying is it looks suspicious to me. It must have cost a pretty penny to rebuild that house a second time, and so quickly too."

"Quickly?"

"Why, construction workers were there round the clock without stop! It went up in _less than_ two weeks - from a burned out hole in the ground to a complete restoration. Of course, you probably didn't realize that - putting in all those long hours at work as you do lately. However, with all that hammering day and night, I didn't get a wink of sleep. And my poor cats, it made them so nervous!"

"I sleep like a rock myself. Are you sure that it was only two weeks? I couldn't even get the tradesmen to paint my house in less than two months time, and then they never did finish the trim," he complained disgruntled, remembering his mismatched paint colours.

"That's why I think it's so odd. The first time their house seemed to go up in a blink of an eye, and then it disappeared just as fast." Arabella snapped her fingers to emphasize, and then leaned closer and whisper conspiratorially, "It was just like magic … with no_ normal _explanation at all! If something illegal isn't going on, how did they do it?"

"I don't know, I guess I haven't been paying too much attention to the neighbourhood lately …" Mr. Prentice said stroking his goatee, deep in thought.

"I saw Mrs. Polkiss from the next lane over, at the market this morning, and she said how her boy Piers even bragged that the Dursley's son is having a pool party this afternoon! A pool! In Little Whinging? In spring? Must be heated is all I can say, and you know how _expensive_ that can be! It's just like throwing money in the air and watching it blow away with the wind. And now, _two_ brand new cars …"

"Two cars?"

"Quite so, and they look to be top of the line too. I saw Petunia driving Dudley home Friday from school in a blue BMW, and now this one is silver. When I asked her about it, all friendly like mind you, she just told me to mind my own business! I was just being neighbourly …" Arabella added acting hurt.

"So a new house, a pool, and two BMWs …"

"And don't forget the new sauna," she said nodding.

"… and unwilling to talk about how the whole lot came about? That's odd. The Dursleys like to brag about everything. It does make one wonder ... Hm … neither overtime nor a bonus would account for all of that. Maybe a rich uncle died?"

'_Aha! I have him, hook line and sinker, now to reel him in.' _

"None that Petunia mentioned. Of course, there was that poor little nephew of theirs. You remember the one – dark hair, big glasses. He disappeared at Christmastime, but he was a poor as a church mouse. They didn't get any money out of him, not unless they _sold_ him I suppose. Maybe that's where they got all the money, but that is definitely illegal. They never did find out what happened to the little boy though … wasn't he called Larry or Barry or something like?"

"It was Harry. Harry Potter. A nice little chap. I was quite fond of him. He used to walk Mitzy here for me when I couldn't, for some pocket money. Loved dogs with a passion, that boy. I didn't realize he was still missing."

"It's just so sad. I don't know how they did it."

"Did what?"

"Just swept his disappearance under the rug as if he never existed, some other child they would have had alerts on the news, and posters on every lamppost at the very least. How can two adults misplace a child like that, and then not be held accountable, I just don't understand."

"I miss Harry. He was very helpful." Mr. Prentice said shaking his head in agreement. "It is a shame. Somebody should look into it."

"Quite so, that's all I'm saying. Do you think I should be worried about the safety of the neighbourhood? Should I do something? As a member of the Watch, of course."

"Oh, I wouldn't do anything hasty Mrs. Figg. These things have a way of sorting themselves out. Well, I better get going. Mitzy here does like her walk."

"I didn't even think! Here I am holding you up, when you are such a busy man too! I never even asked you how it was going down at the Internal Revenue, I hear it is very hectic you poor man."

"Spring is definitely our busy season, it's almost April you know."

"That's right isn't it? Tax time is approaching. What is that old joke … something about a fool and his money …?"

"… are soon parted by the IRS?" Mr. Prentice completed dryly.

"Ha-ha! Love that one … and you must just think me the biggest fool of all right now, all this worry over nothing, and taking up so much of your time."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Figg. I always have time for a friendly chat with a neighbour. Perhaps I'll even call on the Dursleys. I haven't spoken with Vernon in quite a while. Now that they've moved back in, I might just have to stop by. It is very interesting ..." he said looking across the street at the ever-growing mound of packages coming out of the car "... very interesting."

As Mr. Prentice strolled off with Mitzy prancing at his side, Arabella smiled to herself with the satisfaction of a job well done. Yes, she should definitely try out for a leading role.

Back to the south, the rest of the afternoon was passing by calmly. Too calmly for Lily.

It was almost like the lull before the storm. Every time she started to do anything around the flat, Holly would get fussy, and then as if he had extra sensory perception, Harry would pop up out of nowhere and take over the chore while she saw to the baby. Holly would have long spells of being her normal happy baby self, and then as if someone flipped a switch, she would turn into a screaming wiggling unhappy attention demanding energy sucking little demon that wouldn't let her put her down for a second. Then just as suddenly, she would be all smiles and coos again. All for no reason that she could figure out, it was weird.

By late in the day, Lily was about ready to take Holly to a doctor, but she didn't seem feverish, and it would be several more months before she started teething. She didn't remember anything like this ever happening with Harry.

Speaking of her other child … he was acting bizarre as well. Once, she had seen him venture up the circular staircase, but he didn't stay but a few minutes. The rest of the day, when he wasn't feverishly trying to keep her from lifting a finger, he was squirreled away in his room as if he were afraid to be seen. It was all quite disturbing to Lily but she didn't know what to do about it. She didn't think it normal behaviour for a nine-year-old and tried to coax him out with freshly baked chocolate chip biscuits, only to receive a polite 'No thank you Ma'am' back in return.

Arrrghh! He was back to that! If he called her Ma'am _one more time_, she swore she would scream!

On the flip side, the aroma of baked goods did lure the scheming duo away from plotting and planning in their upstairs lair, long enough for Lily to put a few restrictions on their shopping trip for Harry's pet.

"Nothing too big."

"Big as in elephant? Or big as in breadbox?"

"Breadbox definitely."

"Alrighty-o then. Cross six, nine, and eleven off the list Remus."

"… crossing … crossing … told you she would never go for eleven … crossing …" Remus muttered under his breath as the list shortened up considerably.

"Nothing with fangs."

"Any fangs? Or just the sharp poisonous kind?"

"Any."

"Oh … okay, I guess … but I want you to know that you're severely curtailing our choices here," Sirius said pointing out a few more for Remus to delete off the list.

"… deleting as we speak … I knew we shouldn't have even put that one down..."

"That's the point," Lily said dryly. "You should have known, and apparently didn't."

"Anything else on the 'not-over-my-dead-body' list Mi'lady?"

"Nothing with scales."

"But scales can be so pretty!" he protested.

"NO. SCALES." Lily said evenly, staring down Sirius.

"Okay, okay … no scales. Nix item four too Remus. However, personally it was one of my favourites."

"Consider it nixed," Remus confirmed. "Is that all?"

"Um …" Lily racked her brain for other possible calamitous pets they might bring home. "Nothing that breathes fire, or that spontaneously combusts."

"Ah Lily! Now you're taking all the fun out of it!"

"We best go before there is nothing left on the list," Remus wisely pointed out to Sirius. "It's dark enough now that you won't be spotted easily, as long as we take precautions."

"Right you are Moony. See you later Lily! Thanks again for letting me go," Sirius called out as he and Remus escaped out the door.

"As if I had a choice … AND NO MORE THAN FOUR LEGS … _**TOTAL!**_" she qualified, yelling after them into the gathering dusk and shuddering at the thought of what they might find to bring home to her son.

Remus and Sirius headed to the play park, and after checking to make sure that no one was in sight, Remus mounted the boom he borrowed from James. Sirius hopped on behind and they took flight in tandem headed for London.

All afternoon they had tossed ideas back and forth trying to come up with the ideal pet for their beloved godson, and had one by one discarded all the usual muggle choices of puppies, kittens, guppies, and hamsters. They wanted something unusual and special, and so despite the risk, decided that Diagon Alley was the only place to find it.

It was well past dark when they landed on the deserted street in front of the seedy Indigo Inn. They had wisely elected to take the little utilized, and virtually unknown, way into the magical shopping district. Having used the entrance frequently in his misspent youth, Sirius quickly ushered Remus past the sleeping desk clerk, through the blue tunnel, and into the back room of Duncan Curatoran's shop of Fine Exotics, where they hid James' broom in a dark corner.

"I never even knew this entrance existed! How did you?" Remus whispered in his ear as they tiptoed past the cages full of suspicious eyed electric blue Cornish Pixies.

"My father showed it to my brother Regulus and me when we were young boys," Sirius whispered back as they went out the front door into Knockturn Alley. "It was built during the Gnome wars. He said it was a backup escape route for wizards in case the main entrance at the Leaky Cauldron was blocked off."

"But my father never mentioned it to me that I can recall, and I would have thought that you or James would have showed it to me a long time ago. It could have come in handy during a few scraps I can think of."

"James doesn't know about it. The only ones who do are the few pureblood families who paid it to be built, and then to maintain it. And we were all sworn to secrecy."

"But the Potters were purebloods."

"True, but the Potters weren't … don't get me wrong I absolutely loved James' folks, they were more my parents than my own ever were, but well … let's just say they weren't 'dark' enough to make the 'A' list."

"Why was it such a big secret?"

"In a crisis situation they didn't want their escape route to become … ah …" Sirius trailed off embarrassed as he realized what he was about to say wasn't very flattering no matter how you looked at it.

"… over crowded with poor people?" Remus finished for him.

"Oh no! Money had nothing to do with it. They just didn't want half-bloods, mudbloods, and traitors mucking up them saving their own necks," Sirius corrected apologetically.

"I see … just for the high and mighty dark wizards then? So, if it's so secret, how come you're telling me now?"

Sirius shrugged sheepishly. "They disowned me. I'm not on even on the 'Z' list anymore. If they wanted me to keep their secrets they should have thought of that before they erased me from the family tree."

"It's not your fault what family you were born into, and personally I think your parents were a pair of fools. Still …" he hissed as he brushed a cobweb off from his robes, "I can't believe you brought our Harry in this way."

"Well we couldn't exactly go waltzing through the middle of the Leaky Cauldron, now could we?"

"I suppose not. But still …"

"Quit being such an old lady Remus. All's well that ends well - right?"

"Just do me one favour? Never let Lily and James know how you actually got Harry to Gringotts. I think I'd like you to live for a little while longer now that we have you back."

"Ooo never intend to! That would be a mondo baaaadddddd idea."

"Agreed. However now that we're here, we need to find the perfect pet for Harry. I still think we should have asked him what kind of pet he wants, and let him choose it."

"Nah! I want to surprise him!" Sirius said with a gleeful glint in his eyes.

To Remus, seeing the old spark in his friend's grey eyes again, after seeing them so empty and dead looking, was almost worth the pang of guilt he felt over the flicker of rejection he thought he saw earlier in Harry's green ones, when the boy had tried to join them in the upstairs flat. Only it had come and gone so fast, that he wasn't positive if it had really been there, or if it had just been a reflection of his own guilty imagination.

They had been laughing and joking, while trying to come up with ideas for their godson's perfect pet, when they saw his messy hair topping the stairs. They shushed each other and immediately clammed up and hid the shopping list. When Harry had asked them what they had been laughing about, neither of them could come up with a ready story that sounded even halfway plausible.

Remus had known from the hurt look on his face, that Harry had taken their silence as a big hint that he wasn't welcome. Especially seeing as he left almost as soon as he come up, saying he needed to work on his homework assignment some more.

He wouldn't have been able to live with hurting Harry like that, except for knowing that before long, the little boy would know that they did indeed love him, and that they had been just planning him a wonderful surprise.

"So do you have any ideas? Lily shot down most of the ones we came up with earlier, there isn't much left on the list, just the usual pets you didn't want me to add."

"Not a clue Moony. I just know that I'll know it when I see it," he replied confidently. "Why don't you do that disillusionment thingy on me and let's get on with it. I'm feeling a little exposed standing out here on the pavement."

Remus cast the spell sending the charm's trademark cold wet trickling feeling down Sirius' back. As soon as he quit shivering, Sirius took off down Knockturn to where it intersected with Diagon Alley. The pair paused on the corner, disagreeing which way to go. There were two shops, where most magical children bought their pets, but they were in opposite directions and the hour was late. They might possibly make it to one, but doubtful to both.

Then Sirius saw the kneazles chasing each other's tails in the window of the Magical Menagerie and took off at high speed, leaving Remus hurrying to catch up. When they reached the shop, it was nearly closing time so Sirius whispered in Remus' ear to stall the elderly shopkeeper while he looked around for Harry's pet.

Remus was uncomfortable not knowing exactly what Sirius was doing. With Sirius under the disillusionment charm, Remus couldn't see him either, but because he knew he was there, he was alert to his movements around the shop when the various creatures reacted to his presence as he stuck his invisible fingers in their cages.

"Er … sorry to keep you Ma'am, I don't mean to be any trouble and realize you were about to close, but I am in desperate need of some help. I'm wondering if you might know of a Severus Snape, and if so, where he might be presently. I really need to get in touch with him." Remus struck up a conversation with shopkeeper to stall for Sirius and at the same time to try and gather some much-needed information about Snape. After all, the best lie was one laced with the truth.

"No trouble at all." The elderly witch took off her heavy black spectacles to clean while she made herself comfortable on a stool for a nice long chat. The wizard in front of her obviously needed some advice and she just loved to give advice. Squinting at him she asked, "Snape you say? Be he the Potions Master at Hogwarts?"

"That's right, Severus Snape. From what I understand, he is on sabbatical from the school right now, but I can't seem to find out where he went. I just wondered if perhaps you might have seen him lately, I … um … thought maybe he might have been in to buy some of your … ah … not successful sale items for his potions ingredients."

"Ye be right there, Professor Snape has on occasion been in the shop, but I can't say I've seen him lately. A rather lonely man, our Professor - such a shame. Are you a friend of his? Who might I say is looking after him, should he chance in?" The witch looked just a bit more interested in his business than what made Remus comfortable.

"Er … yes … I'm an old … ah … school friend. If you see him would you tell him that …"

Remus had just started to reply when he all of a sudden felt Sirius nudge him in the back. Getting his attention he whisper in his ear that he hadn't found it yet, and that he was heading to Eeylops Owl Emporium to see if he could get there before they closed.

"Um … never mind, no message, got to go." Remus finished in a hurry and left the old witch shaking her head at the impatience of youth these days. They just never took the time to chat. It was becoming a lost art.

Back on the cobblestone street in front of the shop, Remus hissed through his teeth for his friend. "Padfoot! Where are you?"

"Aw … we were too late Moony, they're closed already," came the disappointed disembodied voice of his friend. "And look! That owl right there would have been absolute perfect for Harry. Then, in a year when he goes off to school, he could have written us every day. What could have been better than that?"

Remus looked at the window of the shop and could see ten fingerprints and a nose smudge that were pressing onto the glass in a peculiarly foggy patch, considering the dry warm evening. Beyond the glass, he could see a stately Great Grey Owl on a perch stretching its wings. "Quit panting on the glass Padfoot, someone might notice."

"But Moony! Just look at him!"

"Yes he's a fine owl, and rather large - much larger than a breadbox I might add. However, it doesn't matter. They're closed. C'mon, we'll just have to find something else, or try some other day." Remus said reasonably, while he checked the time on his watch. "But before we go, I would like to stop in the Apothecary. They're still open for an hour and I should check to see to if they got in any wolfsbane potion yet."

"I'll wait for you out here," Sirius replied. "I can't stand apothecary shops – too full of too many smells. It makes me queasy."

"Okay," Remus sighed. Having been in his dog form for so long, Sirius was hypersensitive to odours. "But don't go anywhere. Lily will have my head if I lose you."

"I'm stuck like glue to the pavement."

Remus sighed again. He knew if he went to the apothecary without Sirius that he would end up searching for him when he came back, but he really had little choice. He didn't have much potion left, he hadn't been able to find Severus, and he didn't know if he would be back to Diagon Alley before the next full moon, which was only ten days away.

"Stay!" Remus ordered in vain, as he left for the Apothecary, hoping the dog in Sirius would make him obey. Twenty minutes later, he was back with a single precious bottle of the potion. It had come at an extremely dear price, five times what he had expected to pay, but again he had little choice in the matter. He wouldn't risk not having the potion if he were to stay at the Marauder's Mansion during his transformation. His family of friends was far too important to him to risk their health, or their lives. There was no price too high to pay to ensure their safety.

Standing alone in front of the closed shop of Eeylops Owl Emporium, Remus felt a surge of exasperation. Sirius was not there. The only sign of him was the nose smudge and fingerprints he had left on the glass. Not that he had really _expected_ him to be still there, it was more like an unreasonable hope.

Sighing he wiped the prints off and headed back down Diagon Alley past the intersection where Knockturn Alley joins in. He knew Sirius couldn't be the other direction, since he had just come from there. Besides, the only places left open in that direction was the Apothecary he had just left, and the Leaky Cauldron, which was jammed with patrons, two places that Sirius was avoiding right now like the plague.

As he walked down Diagon Alley, he passed closed shop after closed shop. Trying to think like his slightly scrambled brained friend, he realized that there wasn't anything in this direction either that would have caught Sirius' eye, at least not enough to lure him away from where he promised to stay.

Backtracking to the intersection, he looked down into the gloomy depths of Knockturn Alley and sighed more deeply. In the distance, he could see the gleaming yellow eyes of the giant spiders in the window of the _Wiccan Web. _Just hoping Sirius hadn't already done something stupid, he plunged into the murky depths of the dodgy alleyway.

"Padfoot? Are you there?"

"Of course I am Moony. Where did you think I would be?"

Sirius' voice came from directly behind Remus, making him jump.

"In front of Eeylops - where you promised to stay," Remus said, as he took several deep cleansing breaths to slow down his heart rate.

"Never did any such thing. I just said I'd stay stuck to the pavement. And I did, and the pavement led me here," Sirius said proudly of his somewhat doubtful compliance.

"You haven't done anything stupid have you?"

"Now what could you mean by that?" Sirius asked with a hurt tone to his voice.

"You didn't buy Harry one of those Acromantulas did you?" Remus asked shuddering at the sight of the giant evil looking spiders and imagining Sirius riding one like a horse with Harry pulled up behind him hanging on for dear life.

"Well they are cute, at least the little ones are, but I couldn't for two reasons."

"And what reasons are those?" Remus asked slightly relieved but still wary.

"First, because I'm still disillusioned. I tried but the shopkeeper wouldn't pay any attention to me - the deaf old hag. And secondly, I realized I don't have any money with me, I need to borrow some."

"Not for an Acromantula. They go against at least three of Lily's rules: nothing bigger than a breadbox, no poisonous fangs, and no more than four legs."

"But just think Moony! Harry will be the only boy in his class with a giant spider! Instant popularity! He could really one up that bloated cousin of his!"

"No."

"But …"

"No."

"Fine. Be that way. I'll find something else then. But you are seriously cramping my style," he complained petulantly.

"Good, I'm glad, and believe me - you'll thank me tomorrow when Lily doesn't kick you out of the house. However, any more shopping is going to have to wait. All the pet shops are closed. Let's go home. We'll just have to try again in a week or so."

"A whole week! But Harry …"

"Harry will be okay without a pet for another week or two. By that time, this month's full moon will have passed, and I'll feel more up to helping you look. Right now, he doesn't even know we're getting him a pet so he won't miss it for a little while longer, and I'm really starting to feel ill. It's hitting me hard and early this month, because I've gone so long without a full dose."

"Didn't the apothecary have any wolfsbane?" Sirius asked remembering the errand.

"Yes, but just one bottle at twice the price I'd expected. Then I had to triple that under the counter to get it without going on the Ministry's new 'Werewolf Register'." Remus shook his head. "Even at that, I doubt if it is half the quality as what Severus makes."

"I'm sorry Moony. Of course we'll head home now, no more delays, it's alright by me."

Sirius sympathetically looped his invisible arm over his friends shoulder started shepherding him back towards the far end of Knockturn Alley. He could kick himself for not noticing that Remus was looking even paler and more shaky than usual, and he berated himself soundly for not taking care of him. Instead, he had bullied him into a long broomstick ride to London on a wild goose chase.

It was just that he had just wanted to get out so badly that he hadn't considered anyone else. Getting a pet for Harry was an excuse that he had known Remus wouldn't have turned down in a million years. Remus was as fond of their godson as he was.

Although Sirius had said all the right words, Remus could still feel his friend's palpable disappointment hanging unspoken between them as they silently made their way to the far end of Diagon Alley. The further they went, the narrower Knockturn became, until its width dwindled to a dead end, at a wall that was just barely wide enough for the door and dirty front window of Duncan Octavias Curatoran's shop of Fine Exotics.

As the pair paused in front of the door to the shop, Remus heard Sirius sharply catch his breath. He glanced into the window with trepidation, dreading to see what might have peaked his friend's interest now. Ninety-eight percent of Curatoran's stock was not suitable for a child's pet, he could only hope what Sirius saw fell into the final two.

During the hour that shopkeepers on Diagon Alley started closing down and locking up tight for the night, those on Knockturn were just beginning to wake up, for the shops on Knockturn catered to a very different sort of clientele - the sort that preferred the cover of darkness and the gloom of shadows for their dealings. Knockturn offered all the wares and services that the upstanding citizens frowned upon in public, but coveted privately.

Many of these shops were open late, and a select few, such as Curatoran's whose proprietor lived above the shop, were open around the clock. Not that fine exotics were in demand twenty-four hours a day seven days a week, however having one of the few gateways in and out of the magical district in its backroom, was a secret responsibility that had been handed down from father to son of this particular shop for centuries.

However, the late hours were not without benefits, as the 'owners' of the gateway made sure the shopkeeper was well compensated for his trouble.

Curatoran's shop was by far the smallest in the entire Wizarding shopping district, and the proprietor, 'Doc' as he was known to his friends and acquaintances, had earned the reputation of dealing in rare and difficult to handle magical creatures. Doc's was one of the few places in the entire world where you could purchase a dragon or a unicorn, if he happened to have one in stock and you had enough Galleons in your purse to meet the price, _and_ he liked you well enough to part with one of his precious 'pets'.

Doc was very selective about to whom he actually sold his creatures. Which is why, despite the exorbitant price he charged for his more unusual stock, he wasn't a rich man. What he made on ones that he sold, he used to pay for the care of the ones he couldn't bear to part with - and there were many in that category.

Between the Muggle population's carless and uneducated disregard for all things magical, and human overcrowding that had diminished the creatures' natural habitats, many of the worlds magical creatures were now on the endangered list - a list that had grown rapidly over the last century. To combat their extinction, the Ministry of Magic passed laws to protect them by classifying all endangered magical creatures and beasts as 'Grade A Non-Tradable Goods'.

However, as with most of the Ministry's magical laws, these laws were confusing, open to interpretation, and full of easily twisted loopholes. It wasn't illegal to set a trap for rare magical creatures, but it was illegal to actually catch them, and then to own them once you did. It was also illegal to crossbreed them, to buy and sell them, or to kill them.

One would think that since you could do virtually nothing with the beast once you set a trap for it, that it was pointless to do so in the first place. Nevertheless, if you ignored what was legal (which many did - feeling the laws only applied if they were caught), then you would find that there was a very lucrative black market in their trade. It was lucrative enough for many to risk Azkaban, since parts of these same protected creatures were also quite useful as ingredients in many a potion, or to make magical items such as invisibility cloaks.

Knowing this, the Ministry of Magic would look the other way at their trade, but only as long as they were not healthy living specimens, or at least didn't start out that way in your possession.

However, what do you do if you're a poacher, and instead of an excellent specimen readily saleable, or an accidentally dead beast that you can dice up into parts, you end up with an ailing obstinate dragon or a hurt and frightened unicorn in your trap? They were expensive, and a royal pain to care for until they cooperated and died on their own. Very few wizards or witches would risk the superstitious karma associated with purposefully killing a magical creature by their own hand, so most of these creatures ended up at Doc's shop of Fine Exotics.

In the black-market circles, Doc had built a reputation for buying the unwanted, maimed, and mangled beasts, with a 'no-questions-or-names-asked' policy. Trappers, who found their merchandise practically dead but stubbornly clinging to life and needed an expeditious way to get them off their hands, found this service quite convenient, and therefore Doc was able to purchase them extremely cheap.

Doc Curatoran was tall and thin, with light brown hair, an easygoing attitude, and a knack for nursing pitifully abused beasts back to health with a combination of TLC, psychotherapy, and patience … lots and lots of patience. For no matter what he had to do, how uncooperative the creature, or how long it took it to recover, Doc was willing to take on the challenge.

Whenever possible, after nursing them back to health, Doc would release the creatures into the forests or seas, to roam free once again. The few that wouldn't survive the transition, he put up for sale to the right buyer. It was for this philanthropist reason that the Ministry hadn't shut his shop down, and why they didn't look too deeply into his transactions. In fact, they would occasionally unload their own confiscated beasts with him, instead of dealing with them.

He had gained a love and appreciation of magical creatures when he was a student and had always dreamed of being the caretaker of a large magical creature sanctuary on a self-contained island somewhere. However, since Doc wasn't independently wealthy, his little shop was as close as he had been able to come.

From day to day, it was impossible to say just what you might find in Doc's window but it was normally something fantastic, and this time, as Remus could feel Sirius' arm tightening around his shoulder, he knew it would be no exception - and he was right. In the soft yellow glow of the dimmed lights of the showroom window, was a large ornate silver cage with the most unusual beast that Remus had ever seen.

The creature had a long slim sinuous body curled tightly into an intricate coil on a satin pillow. Up from it raised a magnificent head with gleaming green eyes. It moved with such grace that it was as if it were weightless. The creature resembled a snake, only it had two feathered wings of pure white and two short stubby legs. Then instead of scales, it had soft iridescent plumage that sparkled when it moved. It reminded Remus of a cascade of raindrops. The creature was stunningly beautiful.

"Oh Remus! That's it! That's it! That's Harry's pet! It just has to be! Look at it!"

"But it's a snake," Remus said doubtfully. "Lily said no snakes."

"No she didn't. She just said no scales, and I don't see any scales - all I see are pretty, pretty, feathers! Look at those green eyes Moony. They're just like Harry's!"

"But it's a snake," Remus repeated thinking maybe Sirius just didn't hear him the first time he said it.

"Harry said he liked snakes, and this is even better! It can fly! Isn't it pretty Remus?"

"Yes it's very pretty," he agreed indulgently. "But it's still a snake. Besides, Lily also said no bigger than a breadbox, and that thing has to be well over five feet long, and it might still be growing."

"But all coiled up like that - surely it would fit," Sirius argued. Remus was just glad he didn't have a wand, or he was sure Sirius would conjure one up just to try out the theory.

"But it's still a snake..." Remus repeated once more but it was like talking to thin air.

"C'mon! Let's find out how much it is," Sirius impatiently opened the door and entered the shop.

Remus was helpless to do anything but follow his lead, besides they needed to go through Curatoran's shop anyway to get back to the blue tunnel.

Entering, they could hear a multitude of small squeaks, ominous growling, and scurrying sounds from the various cages that were crammed this way and that into the front window. Glass display cases lined the walls from floor to ceiling, every shelf overflowing with more cages, boxes, and baskets of various parts of the same creatures.

Remus at first thought that they held only dead things, but when a few of the boxes started to rattle and shake as they walked by, he took a decisive step farther away from the wall.

"Ouch! That was my foot Moony!"

"Sorry Padfoot. But since I can't see you, you'll have to watch were I'm walking, not the other was around."

"Duly noted - now wake up the shopkeeper! Chop! Chop!" Sirius ordered impatiently.

Remus looked around and sighed when he saw the sign over the register that said: _'Open twenty – four – seven for your shopping convenience__, o__r by appointment.'_

He had been hoping that the dimmed lights meant that the shopkeeper was out. Nearby was a small bell with another hand-lettered sign that simply said _'Ring for Service.'_

He idly wondered what time would be outside the twenty-four-seven time frame that would require a special appointment.

"C'mon Moony! Ring it!"

Remus hated to wake the shopkeeper up in the middle of the night, especially as there was no way Lily would go for it, even if it were 'pretty'. However, he knew Sirius wouldn't let him leave without asking the price at the bare minimum. He just hoped it was so far out of their price range that Sirius would be sensible for a change. Ha! Fat chance!

The showroom grew eerily quiet as Remus reached for the bell. From every corner and rafter, it seemed as if a thousand eyes were watching. The minute he touched the bell, the showroom exploded with sounds. Cages of blue Cornish Pixies, Imps, and Doxies started caterwauling and rocking their cages. It was no wonder the current proprietor didn't seem to feel it necessary to lock up at night, he thought with a shudder.

"Quiet! Behave yourself! You know it's not too late to put you on tomorrow's menu if you keep up that racket! ... _Lumos!_"

The lights in the showroom brightened as the irritated voice of the proprietor came down the stairs, followed closely by two pyjama-bottomed legs wearing carpet slippers. As soon as Doc descended far enough to see Remus standing by the counter, he hurriedly tied up the belt of his robe and ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. Adjusting his glasses, he looked into Remus' eyes and gave him a knowing look in return.

"Oh … so sorry Sir. Of course, I didn't mean you. I didn't realize I had a customer. Now what may I help you with this fine evening? A Niffler or two for a bedtime snack? Or perhaps a nice fat Nogtail? If I'm not mistaken, werewolves are partial to both."

"Er … no thank you. Have we met before?" Remus was startled that the shopkeeper had recognized him as a werewolf so easily. The last few months must have been harder on him, than even he realized.

"I don't believe so, but you never know. I think though, what you are really wondering is how I knew you were a werewolf. Oh, don't be alarmed, your secret is safe with me Sir. You're not showing." Doc assured Remus, giving him a good-natured smile.

Remus gave him a hesitant look back, fingering his wand just in case it was a trap. As Sirius was without a wand of his own, he was responsible for both of their safety.

"I have an affinity for all animals in pain, whether they're beast, man, or something in between. Some say I can talk to animals, but that isn't quite true, I'm just very good at reading signs, and yours is saying you like your protein on the rare side with a bit of life left in it. But if that's not why you're here…"

"No, I'm … ah … not very ... er ... hungry. But we ... I mean I ... I am wondering about … um … OUCH!" Remus felt Sirius elbow him sharply in his side at his hesitation. "I'm wondering about that winged snake in the window ..."

"You have quite an eye. But that is no snack, my friend - nor snake for that matter."

"_See! I told you!" _Sirius gloated in his ear.

"That is an Occamcy."

"An Occamcy? I've never heard of them before."

"They're native to the Far East. Unfortunately, as with many magical creatures, they are quite rare now. But she is beautiful isn't she?"

"Very beautiful," Remus said admiringly. He could see why Sirius was immediately attracted to it. Sirius liked anything shiny or sparkly, and the Occamcy was both.

"_Ask him how much Moony! Ask him how much! Go on... ask him!"_

"Er … yes. So... how much is it?"

"You look like a nice enough fellow, but I'm sorry, I can't allow her to be anyone's snack. Not for any price." Doc said taking the creature out of her cage and letting her curl up around his neck.

"Oh NO! You misunderstood. You see I am shopping for a pet for a small boy…"

"How small?"

"Nine – almost ten, about this high," Remus held up his hand a little over waist high. "But he also has a baby sister who's just a few months old."

"Then an Occamcy is not the right pet for you," Doc said shaking his head. After rubbing her gently behind the wings, he let the creature slither back into her cage. "They are beautiful, but they are also carnivorous, small children being a particular delicacy of theirs. It wouldn't be safe for the baby for the older brother to have one as a pet, unless of course, the older brother desires to be an only child. Occamcy's also have a natural tendency to be aggressive in protection of their eggs - pure silver you know, and this one is currently laying hers," he said nodding toward the cage.

Remus looked closely and now noticed two silvery eggs in centre of the serpent's coil.

"That's all I've found so far, they always lay their eggs in threes. I'm still looking for the missing one. I'm a little worried that I haven't found it yet, it needs to be kept warm."

"Why would it be missing?" Remus asked intrigued by the captivating creature.

"They tend to be very mistrustful of humans, since humans steal their eggs for the silver, and then kill their unborn babies to get the shells, so the Occamcys lay their three eggs separately where they think they'll stay hidden. That's why they're so dangerous. They are very protective of their nests, and since you never know where the nests with the eggs might be - you never know where to avoid, until it's too late. This one was caught wild so she will never make the best pet, but if you raise one from a hatchling, that's a different story - then they are very loyal."

"So how much are the eggs?"

"Oh I couldn't part with these. Once they hatch, I can sell the silver shells for a tidy sum, and then sell the hatchlings for five hundred Galleons each. However, these eggs won't be ready to hatch for about fifteen days, right about Easter Sunday I am predicting. In the meantime, could I interest you something else? I have a nice selection of Pygmy Puffs. Or perhaps you'd prefer a nice little Crup or a Kneazle instead?"

"Maybe a Crup …"

"_NO CRUPS!"_ Sirius hissed. He wanted to be the only dog in his godson's life.

"Well it wouldn't hurt to take a look at them," Remus said out loud to fidgety Sirius forgetting the other man wasn't aware that he was there.

"No, it wouldn't hurt at all," Doc replied, a little puzzled by Remus talking to thin air, but then he shrugged to himself – who was he to judge? He talked to his animals, and it was his policy to live and let live. Opening a cage at ground level, he took out a squirming puppy that looked very similar to a Jack Russell terrier only with a forked tail, and handed him to Remus. The little pup promptly licked Remus and snapped at Sirius.

"Only five Galleons, cheap at that price, cost you twice as much as the Menagerie. And you know what they say about a boy and his dog."

"Yes I do. Never come between them if you value your life," Remus replied.

The little pup would have been a great choice for Harry, but Remus could feel the jealously rippling in tidal sized waves off from Sirius, who was standing at his elbow. He handed the wiggling Crup back.

"I don't think I have that much left," Remus said remembering his pricy potion purchase.

"_How much do we have?" _Sirius whispered the question in his ear.

"Is there anything for less than … er … five Sickles?" Remus asked after fingering the small coins remaining in his pocket.

"I have a nice selection of Pygmy Puffs for just two Knuts each," Doc offered.

"_Prongs said no rabid toe eating dust bunnies!" _Sirius hissed at Remus.

"Er … no thanks."

"Alrighty then, I don't have much else in your price range, alive that is, and I am assuming that would be preferable for your purposes. Not many a young lad who likes a dead pet, but there is always the odd duck. Ha-ha. No?"

"_What a stupid question!" _Sirius snorted none too quietly.

"Er … alive would definitely be our preference." Remus said quickly trying to cover.

"Well, you're welcome to look around," Doc said trying to stifle a large yawn. He tactfully didn't question his customer's use of the term 'our' when he was supposedly there alone, or the sound of second man's voice he'd picked up with his keen hearing. "If you see anything that interests you just ring the bell. I'll be right upstairs. You'll have to excuse me now - I'm asleep on my feet. I've spent the better part of the last two weeks rounding up the Cornish Pixies that a Grim and a young prankster let loose, Been causing me nothing but trouble ever since."

"Sorry to hear that," Remus said sympathetically as the shopkeeper did look very tired, and he knew the trouble pixies could cause. "Please don't let me keep you up."

"No trouble … no trouble … (_yawn)…_ at all ... but if I ever see that young wizard's father, have I got a repair bill for him! Oh, and dim the lights before you go, the pixies stay calmer that way…"

After Doc disappeared to his flat upstairs, Remus cast a spell to end the disillusionment charm and unveiled Sirius rolling on the floor holding his sides in silent laughter.

"And just what is so funny?"

"It's just that … that it was … it was … _hahahahahahahahaha _…"

"Yes? It was what?"

"The Grim … the Grim and the boy …" as Sirius could no longer talk from laughing, it took very little for Remus to put two and two together and figure out just who had wreaked havoc on the hapless shopkeeper.

"Sirius! You didn't! You probably cost Curatoran thousands in damages!" he said looking around at the cabinets, most of which had layers of new spellotape spider webbing their glass fronts. "He seems like decent fellow. Why would you do that?"

"We didn't do it on purpose, but … heh-heh-heh … it was really funny …" Sirius said wiping the tears from his eyes.

"So let me in on the joke. What happened?"

"We were half way through the store and I think I barked or whinged or something, anyway it set off the pixies and they got out of hand. You know pixies - they're uncontrollable. You can't really blame their actions on us. Besides Curatoran says he's going to take it out on … on the boy's father … _hahahahahahah_a …"

"I don't think James is going to be any too happy either."

"But that's what's so great about it … _hahahaha _…"

"Explain!" Remus said exasperated with his friend.

"Harry … Harry told everyone …_ hahahahahahahahaha _…"

"Harry told everyone WHAT?"

"That Sniv-Snivellus was his father! _BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"_

"He didn't! Sirius! Why? How did he even know the name?" Remus asked shocked.

"I ... er ... might have mentioned it to him. At the time, I didn't know James was alive and well. I thought muggles had adopted him, and I had no idea where you were, or how to contact you. Besides, I was a little bit miffed at you for leaving me in Azkaban."

The remark made Remus immediately look sad and apologetic again, making Sirius regret bringing it up.

"Don't worry - I'm over it Moony. I just mentioned it only because it goes to the reason behind what I did. Since I needed to get Harry to Gringotts, and I had no money …" Sirius finally quit laughing and shrugged, "Snivellus was the only believable substitute I could think. He and James do look alike, if you discount the nose, the eyes, the mouth, the forehead, the ears, the complexion, the hair, and the attitude."

Remus just shook his head, amazed at his friend's audacity.

"Okay so they don't look anything alike, other than they are both tall and have dark hair. But people bought it anyway, so we charged the whole trip to him."

"And Harry went along with this?"

"Harry is a nice obedient boy," Sirius said smugly. "I told him to."

"Good gods Sirius!" Remus swore, "You are going to be in soooooo much trouble if Severus ever find out. Let alone if Lily does."

"Who says she has too?" Sirius asked in wide-eyed innocence.

Remus just snorted,_ Noxed_ the lights, and pulled his friend to his feet. "I'm just saying – be prepared for the wrath of the redhead. Let's get the broom and get out of here."

"Wait a minute … how much did you say we had left?"

"Four Sickles and twenty eight Knuts," Remus answered warily, feeling doom looming nearby. Impulse buying was never a good idea, especially if bought on Sirius' impulses.

"Um … that's almost five Sickles …"

"Why? Dare I ask, what are you thinking now?" Remus cringed waiting for the answer, then when he didn't get a ready reply he asked hopefully, "Did you change your mind about the Crup?"

"The Crup? Get real! No, I just thought that I don't want to go back completely empty-handed. I am a man of my commitments."

"You mean you're a man who should be committed. That's quite a different thing in my book," Remus said dryly.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. No really, looky here," Sirius optimistically poked a finger into an old woven basket on a dusty shelf. "Not quite what I pictured. Not too cuddly, but the price is about right. Too bad the potion cost so much …"

At the deafening silence coming from Remus at that remark he added sheepishly, "not that you shouldn't have gotten it, no matter how much it cost. I'm just saying it was too bad they gouged you on the price. I'm glad they had at least one vial though. Ah, c'mon Moony! You know what I mean. Say _something._ Please?"

Remus shook it off. He never could stay mad Sirius very long. Now he looked into the basket doubtfully. It held a multitude of eggs in various sizes and shades. The sign attached to it announced: _'Miscellaneous Eggs – Five Sickles each – Your choice – No guarantee, No return.'_

"An egg? What is a little boy supposed to do with an egg for a pet?"

"Hatch it?"

"But what if it doesn't hatch? Won't Harry be disappointed? These seem mostly dead."

"But what if it does? Wouldn't that be something? It'll be a fun family project! Besides, it's almost Easter and it will be the best Easter egg he ever got! Maybe he'll even forgive us for snubbing him earlier. We can't go back with _nothing _for Harry_,_" he finished softly.

So Remus hadn't imagined seeing the look of hurt in their godson's eyes when he had tried to join them in the loft - Sirius had seen it too.

"Just think … what if the one we pick out hatches a dragon …" Sirius breathed in wonder, caught up in his fantasies, "… or maybe even one of those Occamcys! Curatoran did say one of the eggs was missing."

"I really don't think this is a good idea Padfoot ..."

"Ooo look at this one! Come to papa …" Sirius crooned as he plucked one the size of a chicken egg out of the basket and cradled it lovingly. It was by far the smallest egg in the basket and had a delicate shell that in the dim light seemed to glow with an inner radiance. "This one is most definitely 'alive'. I bet it's the missing Occamcy egg! Heh-heh! It was hidden in plain sight, no wonder Curatoran couldn't find it. Harry will love it!"

"You're forgetting about someone."

"I am?" Sirius said taken aback. He couldn't think of anyone he was forgetting.

"Holly. You heard what Curatoran said. Occamcy's eat babies."

"But she's growing like a weed. By the time the hatchling gets big enough to eat her, she'll be too big to eat. So no worries," he said dismissing his concern out of hand.

"Lily still won't like it. I'm fairly certain when she said no scales, she meant no snakes."

"We don't really know that it is. For all we know it's a parrot. We can just say it's a bird of some sort. That's not really lying," he justified, "Occamcy's do have wings and feathers. Besides Lily likes snakes, at least she's always sticking up for Snivellus."

"That's different."

"No it's not, a snake is a snake. You know … I think this egg is a bit on the puny side, one Knut short of five Sickles should be sufficient, don't you think?" he asked holding it up and appraising it carefully before he pocketed it.

"What are you doing?" Remus hissed, "Take that back out of your pocket!"

"But the man said it needs to be kept warm." Sirius protested all innocent eyed. "I'm just helping him out. He probably never would have thought to look in a basket of eggs for the missing egg. It'll die if we don't rescue it, and after it hatches, I'll bring the shell back and he can have it for nothing. It's a win-win situation for all of us!"

"It doesn't seem right …" Remus shook his head. "He said those hatchlings would be five hundred Galleons each!"

"That would be true of those two eggs up there." Sirius said nodding towards the front window, "however, _this_ one is quite clearly labelled otherwise, think of it as a clearance sale item."

"But ..."

"Maybe being out of the nest so long it is a little 'iffy' on the alive versus dead question."

"But still …"

"There are no buts about it Moony. You know what they say about a fool and his egg being soon parted - guess Curatoran should have looked a little harder for it."

"Still ... we ought to wake him up and make sure it's okay …"

Remus reached for the bell only to have Sirius snatch it out from under his hand and quiet it before the pixies got overly excited again.

"Oh nonsense! Didn't you see how tired he was? Let the good man sleep. I'll be a good boy and leave Curatoran a note saying I'm taking it. If he disagrees with the price, he can send a bill for the rest. I wouldn't want to be accused of shoplifting."

Grabbing a quill and a sheet of parchment by the register, Sirius gave it only a scant moment's thought before he grinned from ear to ear, and swiftly scratched out a note that read:

_Payment for one extra smallish miscellaneous egg_

_- The Sum of four Sickles and twenty-eight Knuts _

- _Respectfully Severus Snape_

Reading over his shoulder while he wrote the note, Remus shook his head when Sirius got to the signature and tried unsuccessfully to take the quill away from him.

"No way Sirius - I will NOT let you sign Severus' name. What are you - twelve?"

"Well, I can't sign my own name. I'm dead you know," Sirius sniped back rolling his eyes in exasperation at his friend.

"I know you can't, but you can't sign it Severus either."

"Bugger off Moony! I don't see why not - I have the quill, and I know how to use it."

"Because it's just not right, and I think you've done enough to him already."

"So what's a little more?" Sirius snickered.

"No." Remus sternly stared him down until the snicker died.

"Fine, be a wet blanket. But what else do you suggest? I can't use James name either, he's dead too." Sirius considered, pursing his lips in thought, and tapping the feather end of the quill to his temple.

"Use mine if you must leave a note, but I did want to stay anonymous a little while longer, I didn't like the sounds of that registry ..."

"Nah, I got it, don't worry about it. And I promise … I won't sign it 'Severus Snape' this time." Sirius pledged looking slyly over his shoulder to see that Remus had wandered away, and was otherwise occupied back staring into the front window at the Occamcy.

"Good, see that you don't," Remus said absentmindedly, swaying slightly in rhythm to the sinuous movement of the feathered serpent.

Sirius hastily rewrote the note, folded it half, and tossed it on the counter.

"There! Done! Now leave the money Moony and quit dawdling. I don't know about you, but I'm _dead_ tired. Heh-heh! Pun intended! Let's get going. We still have a long flight ahead of us back to Little Whinging. You know that is a very descriptive name for that town ..." Sirius turned on his heels and headed for the back room and the tunnel to muggle London.

Since Sirius left him no choice, Remus sighed, dropped the rest of his coins on top of the folded note without another thought, grabbed the broom from the corner where he had hidden it, and followed his friend down the tunnel. _'One of these days …'_

"…one of these days, we're going to need to buy another couch." Lily complained as she shifted to a more comfortable position to keep her leg from falling asleep.

It was Sunday morning April first, and the house was quiet. She had finally gotten a few hours sleep after she heard Remus and Sirius arrive back home safely well past midnight, not being able to rest herself until she knew all her 'kids' were home and safely tucked away in their beds asleep.

Thankfully, they hadn't seemed to find a pet yet, for she heard no yips, yaps, or yowls coming from either upstairs or down. Lily signed with contentment. She and James were awake and stealing a few precious moments of alone time before the rest of the household stirred.

"Oh I don't know about that." James returned putting his arm over her shoulders and pulling her into the crook of his arm. "I think this chair is just the right size."

It was quiet, just the two of them, and the perfect time to talk. Lily pondered if she should mention to James about Harry's odd behaviour the day before, but then thought maybe she was making too much of it.

She didn't trust her motherly intuition yet when it came to Harry. In a blink of an eye, he had gone from being a tiny baby whose every sound, every wiggle, and every facial expression she had memorized and instantly knew what they meant - into a little person with his own thoughts and his own experiences. Ones about which she was still only guessing. Lily wished Harry would open up to them, but their relationship was still so fragile that she didn't want to force it and inadvertently damage their fledgling bond.

Moreover, she certainly had no intention of turning into the same type of smothering mother that her sister Petunia had proved to be with Dudley. Shuddering over the thought of her spoiled nephew, she pushing down her misgivings and settled on another topic that had been nagging at her.

"So tell me what happened."

"What happened when?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You've been avoiding talking about it all weekend."

"Um … no I don't …" he hedged.

"James Potter!"

Lily threw off James' arm and sat up straight. Even in dim light of dawn, her eyes glinted with dangerous determination. She wasn't going to let him sway her from the topic once again. This time she was getting answers.

"You are not getting out of this. When I said we weren't finished with that conversation I meant it. Now is as good a time as any to explain. Everyone else is asleep so you have no excuses."

"Okay," James sighed. "You know the basics … and it was a recipe for disaster: take one jealous-wanna-be-boyfriend, a dash of his slightly-misguided-but-terribly-loyal-best-bud, toss in one hormonal teenager with a furry little problem, mix together with one overly uptight snake and wait for the expulsion."

"Expulsion? Don't you mean explosion?"

"That too, but no - I meant expulsion. We were."

"You were?" Lily asked shocked. "I was just kidding."

"I'm not."

"You were _EXPELLED_? Over a silly prank? Are you joking? This is April Fool's Day…"

"I'm not joking, and it wasn't so silly. Dumbledore said that was what Snape demanded for justice." James shrugged nonchalantly. "And it seemed fair, all things considered."

"But I don't understand … you weren't expelled!"

"Ah but we were."

"Quit trying to pull my leg! I know you never left Hogwarts, or ... was that someone polyjuiced to look like you? Am I married to the real James Potter, or are you some kind of clone? Who are you?"

"I'm the real James Potter, and yes Sirius and I were both still at Hogwarts after we was expelled. That was part of the creative punishment that Dumbledore suggested, our other alternative was allowing Snape to file charges against us with the Aurors and take our chances with the Wizengamot."

"The Wizengamot? But doesn't the Headmaster handle all Hogwarts student disputes."

"Since the Shrieking Shack is technically not on the grounds of Hogwarts, but in Hogsmeade, Snape had every right to press charges without even telling Dumbledore."

"Still ... why would you think Severus would press charges over a prank?"

"Because we were bloody idiots and the prank got way out of hand. We were just grateful Snape gave us that chance that we jumped at the Headmaster's solution so we could stay at Hogwarts. We went to all the classes. We even sat for the N.E.W.T.S. But it was all a charade, we were just going through the motions with the rest of our class, knowing that in the end, we would never get our degrees, even if we did the work."

"But why? Why did the Headmaster want you to stay if you weren't going to graduate?"

"For Moony's sake."

"Remus?"

"Yeah ... he was so devastated by the thought of what he nearly did to Snape, that the Headmaster was seriously concerned about his mental state if he were to lose contact with his friends as well. A mentally unbalanced teenage werewolf, running amok in the castle with a prefect badge, a wand, and raging hormones, was not something he wanted to deal with on his own. However, since Remus was in actuality a victim of the prank as well, there was no cause to expel him as well."

"I never knew. But still, expulsion? It seems rather of harsh for a mere prank. I'm still not sure I believe you."

"At least it wasn't as bad for us as it was Hagrid …"

"Hagrid? What does he have to do with this? Did he help you with the prank on Sev?"

"Oh no! What happened to Hagrid happened long before our time - back when he was a student at Hogwarts himself."

"I didn't know he was a student."

"He doesn't really like to talk about it, only Sirius and I spent enough time with him on detention that he confided in us. When he was a student, Hagrid was accused of causing another student's death with one of his pets. No one could actually prove it was his fault, but his wand was broken in half anyway - and he was only a third year at the time. At least we got to keep ours."

"And all this time, I thought you two graduated with the rest of us… Oh my Gods! Do you know what this means?"

"What?"

"Petunia was right all along! I'm married to a dropout!"

"Well, sooner or later she had to be right about something," James said frowning at the thought of his sister-in-law's lowly opinion of him. "I guess I am an April Fool after all."

"Sorry …" Lily giggled, and then sobered when she realized she had obviously hit a raw nerve. "It was just too good to pass up. But why didn't you ever tell me?"

"When we were at Hogwarts we weren't allowed to say a word about it. And afterwards, I was just too ashamed."

"Why couldn't you say anything to me? I would have understood. I'm sure everyone would have."

"The Headmaster said we'd already piled enough guilt on Remus' shoulders and we weren't to add to it. We had to just be good boys and take our medicine. Besides, if we told anyone, we would also have to say why it was as serious as it was, and that would have meant outing Remus. We couldn't do that."

"That must have been hard."

"Yeah, it was pretty humiliating, even if no one else knew other than Dumbledore, Snape, and us. We knew, and we had to listen to everyone talking about what wonderful careers they'd have, with us knowing we wouldn't ever. That's why I never pursued the Auror's program after Hogwarts even though you kept pushing me to do it."

"And you would have been so good at it too. But I always thought you changed your mind because you had enough money that you didn't have to work."

"That was just dumb luck I was born into a wealthy family. What wasn't so lucky was that Dumbledore told our parents. That's when Sirius' parents disowned him and kicked him out for good. They took it very badly."

"I always thought he ran away on his own, and that was the reason they disowned him. His parents were that upset at him for endangering Severus?"

"Nah, they were only upset that he didn't pull it off, and got caught. They wanted to send him to Durmstrang to finish his education so he wouldn't bring shame to their family name by not completing his degree. To them the health and welfare of a werewolf and a half-blood wasn't worth sullying their family name over, and that him being a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin had been bad enough. But Sirius wouldn't go, he said that if not graduating was what would make it right with Snape, than he was going to stay and own up to his responsibility like a man."

"At least that must have made his parents proud of him."

"You would have thought, but it didn't. As his mother blasted his name off the family tree, and tossed his belongings out the upstairs window, she shrieked something about him 'dishonouring the Nobel House of Black', and that 'as long as her countenance had breath she would never allow him to forget he was a traitor to the family name."

"That's horrid! He was her son!"

"True. However, his mother always was a nasty old shrew. I wonder what she meant by that though … peculiar way to put it … as long as her countenance had breath? Well, guess we'll never know. It was in the papers Remus brought home that she passed away a few years ago. Sometimes, I think that what we did, contributed to my own parent's ill health. Me letting them down like that I mean."

"James! You can't think that! Your parents loved you, and they loved Sirius like a son as well. You know they did!"

"I know, I just wish … but that's muddy water under the bridge now. As long as I'm confessing, I guess I should tell you why Snape fell for the prank to begin with. And before I say anything else, I want you to know that I have sincerely regretted my part in this more times than I can ever say, and not just because I got expelled. And it just goes to prove you were right."

"Right about what?"

"That Snape belonged in Gryffindor more than he did in Slytherin."

"I knew it!" Lily crowed with glee. "Of course he would never believe me on that. So what did really happen? I've never heard the full story of this infamous prank."

"Okay, but don't hate me, at least not too much and not for very long. Promise?"

"I promise you nothing stag-boy. Now out with it." Lily ordered settling back down in the cosy warm spot under his arm that was just her shape.

James took a deep breath. He really didn't want to admit to this part … "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"The long version, and don't you dare leave a single thing out."

"It all started in our fifth year, when Snape called you that despicable name."

"That was strictly between me and Sev."

"Not so! You were a Gryffindor, and he insulted you. It would have reflected badly on our entire house if we didn't exact some sort of retaliation. Gryffindor pride was at stake. It just took a while, but you know what they say, revenge is a dish best served cold."

"You were an arrogant little toerag weren't you?"

"Um … yes - yes I was my dear. However, that is beside the point. What is important, and the thing that I want you to really focus on, is that it was then when I fell head-over-heels, irretrievably and irrevocably, in love with you forever."

Pleased, Lily snuggled closer.

"Snape made you cry. And the look on your face … well, it made me vow to make sure that, from that day forward, that those lovely green eyes of yours never filled with tears again, unless they were tears of happiness."

"Getting a little sappy there James."

"Er … right again. Anyway Sniv …"

Lily's glare cut like a knife.

"… uh … Snape … uh ... I mean _Severus_ was always hanging around you. The more he did, the more jealous I got, and the more jealous I got, the stupider and clumsier I was. You would hardly look my way, let alone go out with me. I blew it every time I got the chance to talk to you."

"I remember ... you were a bit tongue-tied."

"The reason I couldn't talk was my foot was stuck in my mouth. You would snub me and I'd say something stupid, then it would take hours for Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail to extricate it and talk me back off the ledge of the Astronomy Tower. The longer it went on, the worse it got, and I always prided myself on being rather suave and debonair."

"I do remember you having the bizarre notion that you were a 'babe-magnet'."

"I was!"

"… not."

"Hrumph! Anyway it got to the point where I was totally useless…"

"So there was a time you weren't?"

"Do you want this confession or not?"

"Okay, okay. I'll quit with the mocking commentary – go ahead, confess, I'm all ears and my lips are zipped." Lily made a silent motion across her mouth as emphasis.

"Alrighty then, as I said … the more you ignored me the worse I got. Everything started to suffer. I was doing troll level work in all my classes. I couldn't eat. Every time they turned around, I snapped the heads off my best friends. I admit it - I was lovesick."

"You were? Over little old me?"

"Yes my compliment greedy better half, I was terminally so. In our sixth year, after leading our House Quidditch team in a string of unprecedented losses, Padfoot got so totally fed up with me he decided to do something about it. To 'fix' me, he cooked up this brilliant prank to get Severus out of the way for a little while, thinking that if he did, that you might give me a fair chance."

"And the rest of you Marauders just went along with it? Like a merry band of nitwits?"

"I thought you were going to be quiet, and no, Remus didn't know a thing about it. As I said before, he was totally innocent in the whole matter. We ended up hurting him as much as we did Severus. The difference being that Remus finally forgave us, where Severus never did."

"So you and Peter helped Sirius with this prank?"

"I have to admit that I was too far gone by that time to realize what Sirius was really up to. I like to think that if my brain hadn't been scrambled by unrequited love that I would have put a stop to it before it got out of hand. But I …"

"So now you're saying it was entirely _my_ fault?" Lily asked hurt and incredulous at the same time.

"No! No! No! You're taking me completely wrong. I'm saying it was entirely _my_ fault. I'm just trying to explain why, when Sirius first cooked it up, that I honestly thought he was just kidding. It was just that I was so wrapped up in my own angst that I didn't pay attention to what was going on. I'm sincerely ashamed I was so stressed that I stopped seeing how serious Sirius was and it resulted in Severus suffering severely."

"My, that was a tongue twister, but elaborate, how so?"

"Remus was the responsible one of our group. The one that kept us grounded, and the one that added that touch of realism we needed to keep our pranks from going over the top and hurting anyone."

"Since Sirius knew Remus would absolutely _never _go along with this particular prank, not even in theory, we never told him anything about it. But Peter? Well, Peter was just Peter. He went along with whatever we wanted to do. The point is that I knew better, at least I should have, and that's where my fault lies. I should have realized that without Remus to reel us back in, that it would end up blowing up in our faces."

"You know something James?"

"What Lily?"

"You're doing a lot of talking but very little confessing. I've changed my mind. I think I'd like the shorter version."

"Oh, am I boring you?"

"Just a little," she teased and yawned loudly. "You're putting me to sleep."

"If you're tired we can skip this whole thing."

James tried to rise, but with Lily on his lap he was pinned down.

"No really, I want to hear it. Just quit beating around the bush and get to the action."

"Yes my love," James agreed settling back down and pulling her close. "I know that I should have known better, but at the time plotting revenge against Severus just felt so good. I had built it up the name-calling incident in my mind, until I felt anything I did was totally justified. Besides, it gave me something to focus on other than your rejection. All the time that we were plotting and planning, I kept telling myself that was all it was, just a lot of plots and plans, that we wouldn't ever really do it. In retrospect, if it were just a lot of talk, I have to wonder why we purposely avoided bringing Remus in on the fun."

"Yes, that should have been a big clue, but get back to the action - you promised."

James let out a long-suffering sigh.

"After we lost the Quidditch match to Hufflepuff with a score of five hundred sixty to zip, Padfoot started haunting the library until he found Severus there alone studying. Then he and Wormtail staged a scene where they 'accidentally' let him overhear them talking about sneaking out of the castle at the next full moon to get a look at a real werewolf … er … one who just happened to also be in their own house. Of course, at the same time they let slip the secret of how to get past the whomping willow, and into the hidden tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack."

"The moon was full? Then wouldn't Remus have been a …!"

"Exactly," James nodded.

"But I always thought Sev just found out somehow that Remus _was_ a werewolf, not that he actually found Remus _as_ a werewolf! Remus might have killed Sev, or turned him into a werewolf as well! What were you thinking! " Lily cried out in dismay at the realization of what could have happened to her childhood friend.

"We weren't thinking and that's why we were expelled. The Headmaster has a great sense of humour, but he does tend to frown on little things like one student trying to kill another. However, Padfoot swears that he never intended for that to happen, and I believe him. He just thought that Severus would get a good scare, and get caught being off grounds after curfew and land into trouble with Dumbledore. Best-case scenario, he hoped to get him expelled and out of the way for good, or at least suspended for a while. Worse case, at least scared enough to stay away from you for the rest of term, and thus leave the way clear for me to woo you in peace. That's why our being expelled, instead of Severus, was a punishment that fit the crime."

"But why would being scared by Remus make Sev stay away from me?" Lily asked perplexed at the twists and turns in the story.

"Er … because … ah … well … um …" James hemmed and hawed.

"Yes my little dropout? Because why?" Lily demanded suspiciously.

"… because-Sirius-also-made-Severus-believe-that-you-were-the-Gryffindor-werewolf-not-Remus." James spit out real fast to get it over.

"HE WHAT! SIRIUS YOU GET DOWN HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF RIGHT THIS MINUTE!" Lily yelled as she tried to jump up, to find herself held down by James.

"Hush love! Ssshush … you'll wake the kids!" James hissed in her ear. "Besides, Sirius is a little fuzzy on the details right now. It wouldn't do either of you any good to hash this out until he's recovered. You're angry, and he wouldn't have a clue as to why. You'd get no satisfaction out of him that way. It'd be like kicking a hurt puppy. I still believe him when he told Dumbledore that he never intended for Severus actually to confront Remus. He wanted to give him a good scare was all. How was he to know that Severus would actually get the wild idea that he could somehow cure your lycanthrope with a potion and then charge off to your rescue like a white knight on horseback?"

"He did?" Lily said calming down. "How sweet."

"Yeah sweet, and I do have to give him credit. He knew there was a werewolf at the end of the tunnel but he went in anyway, on the slight chance of helping you. He showed true bravery."

"See? I told you he should have been in Gryffindor. But … if he went to the shrieking shack to save me, how come he didn't get there? How did he avoid Remus?"

"That was the time I asked you to meet me in Hogsmeade on Friday night for dinner, and you said 'yes' for the first time. I sat alone in the middle of Madame Puddifoot's teashop, swatting at those annoying floating golden cherubs, and picking pink confetti out of my hair, until they closed. As I was leaving, I noticed the date on the calendar was the first of April, and it dawned on me that you had out pranked the master prankster, and turned me into the biggest fool of all. I sulked by myself for the rest of the weekend."

Lily giggled.

James glared at her.

"Anyway, on Monday night when I finally went searching for Sirius to moan about it, I found the Gryffindor common room empty. Both he and Peter were missing. I realized it was late and that the full moon had already risen. I thought that they had gone to keep Moony company, so I put on my invisibility cloak and went to join them. When I got to the entrance hall, I heard a noise. That was when I saw Severus slipping out the front door. By the time that I figured out where he was heading, he was almost to the shack."

"What stopped him?"

"I did ... I saved his ungrateful arse, but just barely. Remus may have only been a skinny teenager, but even then, when he transformed into a werewolf he was powerfully strong. It was a close call, too close. I think that's why Severus never forgave us even though he got what he wanted. He realized what almost happened and it scared him."

"How did you figure out that was where Sev was going?"

"As he left, he dropped a piece of parchment in his haste. After I was sure no one else was around, I picked it up. It was a fake letter, supposedly from some Gryffindor students to Dumbledore. In it, they asked to be resorted because they feared for their lives with having a housemate who was a werewolf. In the letter, you were the one named as the Gryffindor werewolf. When I read that, I had no doubt about where Snape had gone."

"A letter? Sirius left a letter like that just lying around where anyone might have seen it?"

"I'm sure he left it somewhere that Severus would be the only one to find it. I swear on my wand Lily, I never agreed to that part of it, I didn't even know about it. Sirius said it was Peter's contribution to the prank."

"It sounds like something Peter would come up with," Lily said scornfully. "Once a rat, always a rat. So why wasn't Peter expelled right along with you as Sirius? It seems to me that he played a big part in it. Wasn't he just as culpable?"

"Because as you said – once a rat, always a rat. He turned into his rat animagus form and disappeared into the weeds before Severus saw him that night. Peter's one talent seemed to be placing blame on other people, and taking none of the responsibility himself. Sirius and I, being the loyal Gryffindors that we were, didn't bring him into it when we were hauled up in front of the Headmaster without him. I just wish I knew then, what I know now. I would have never had named him as our secret keeper." James said sadly. "I'm so sorry Lily. I kind of made a mess of our lives."

"Peter was my decision too, James. You can't take the responsibility for that all on yourself. Besides, it was Peter's choice, and his choice alone, to betray us."

"It was, but I keep thinking that maybe if we had treated him a little better, he wouldn't have turned out as he did. We patronized him almost as much as we did Severus. Granted, not quite as much, seeing as he was a Gryffindor and all, but he was definitely a close second."

"I always wondered why you included Peter in your clique. He never really did seem to fit in with the rest of you."

"We didn't at first. There were five of us in our house the first year."

"That's right, there was another boy wasn't there? A David somebody."

"Yes David Dunbar. He and Peter went around together, but when we started second year, David didn't come back. We never did hear why his parents pulled him, but Remus seemed to think it was his fault. Whether it was or not, we were down to four in our dorm. With David gone, Peter didn't have any other friends. It seemed wrong to leave him as the odd man out, and Remus felt responsible - so we just included him," James admitted with a shrug. "It seemed the sporting thing to do."

"You were sweet too," Lily said softly.

"So you don't hate me too much?"

"Not entirely. I don't know about Sirius though. You can love someone and still not want him around. I won't be too hard on him till I get him back on his feet. It wouldn't be fair."

"And we Gryffindors are all about fair."

"Yes we are. So to be fair now, what are you going to do about Sev?"

"What do you mean? What can I do? Remus can't find him, and believe me if Remus can't find …"

"Sev is missing?" Lily asked startled.

"Not missing … just not 'available'. Remus found out that he had been working at Hogwarts until just a few months ago. However, that's as far as he could trace him. All he could find out was that he went on sabbatical, only no one seems to know quite where or for how long. He could be anywhere in the world right now."

"Anywhere … like the Isle of Man …" Lily contemplated.

"The Isle of Man? I sense a geography challenge. Okay ... let's see maybe he's in Manitoba," James guessed slyly going across the pond.

"Ha! You can't stump me that easy. I can think of a couple 'Ba' places. Top this one …" Lily said playfully, promptly coming up with 'Baja'.

"Baha? That isn't a place! That's something you say when you're in a bad mood at Christmas," James frowned. "The game is you have to name a real place like a city or a country that starts with the syllable mine ended with."

"That is a real place. In fact, it has a whole peninsula named after it – Baja California. And it's j-a, not h-a."

"Ah that explains it – California - it's an American thing."

"No it's in Mexico, so are you stumped? No 'J-a' places spring to mind?"

'_Too easy – don't think Jamaica … don't think Jamaica …' _she chanted in her head.

"Ha! And I do mean 'ha' … spell it anyway you want to, it sounds like an h-a not a j-a so my place is 'Ha-waii'." James declared triumphantly.

"I'll let you have it, so then mine is 'India'." Lily returned promptly.

"That isn't a double 'i'! You're cheating again … well India does have two 'i's, just not together like Hawaii does, so it doesn't count. Finally - I WIN!" he crowed happily.

"The syllable is just a single 'i' not double," Lily protested swatting him playfully. "It is even sometimes written with an apostrophe between them."

"How'd you get so smart?"

"I've been quizzing Harry on his geography. Nah na-na na-nah! I'm right, you're wrong. So do you have a 'dia' place or not?"

"Can't I just have the 'a' like you did the 'i'?"

"Nope, you called me a cheater and you were wrong, so now you have to do the last two syllables and not just one. It's in the rules."

"It is? Since when?"

"Since now, and my say goes since I'm the graduate in the family." Lily firmly glared down James until he gave in.

"Fine, but that's a pretty low blow. Two syllables it is, but I will remember this one, don't think that I won't. Okay, di-a … how about a diamond mine? Maybe Severus bought a diamond mine, or maybe he is playing shortstop on a baseball diamond."

"Nope, won't accept it, it's not a 'real' place my little uneducated one," she gloated.

"I give. I can't think of a 'dia' place so you win." Sighing, he mentally he tacked on _'as usual' _to his retort.

Lily snuggled down closer to him, to watch the sunrise brightening the clear morning sky, while she breathed deeply of James' clean scent. She really shouldn't have needled him like that, but she did so enjoy winning these little mental sparing matches, it made her feel like her mind wasn't so much like Swiss cheese. However, now that she was officially the smartest one in the family, being the only graduate, maybe someday she would be gracious and let him win … but not today. If he couldn't come up with a place as well known to them as 'Diagon Alley', he didn't deserve to win, she thought smugly.

'_Wouldn't it be funny if the game was right?'_ she mused silently. _'What if right this very minute Sev was in Diagon Alley? I can just picture him sitting all stiff and proper under a bright orange striped umbrella at an outdoor table at Florean Fortescue's, and scowling over the paper. Probably having breakfast of toasted scones along with one of those horribly bitter brews of which he was always so terribly fond.' _

Lily laughed to herself at the silly idea, her shoulders shaking with mirth causing James to rub her arms to try and warm her up. Of course, Severus wasn't that close, nothing lately had come that easily for them. Baja was much more likely …

"BAH! Don't they ever check their sources?" Severus Snape flipped the page open, only to be irritated even more intensely by the next article he read.

"HA! This article is total fabricated nonsense! I don't know why I continue to waste my money on this rag! Lucius Malfoy would never resort to fisticuffs with Arthur Weasley in public! You can get as many facts reading a fairytale." Severus Snape threw down the paper in disgust as the waiter came up to the table with a plate of steaming hot toasted scones, and a cup of even hotter strong black coffee the consistency of mud.

"What's got you all up in a dither so bright and early on a Sunday morning Professor?" the gum-chewing waiter asked affably.

"Just the normal tripe the Daily Prophet is trying to peddle as 'breaking news'." The shudder that rippled through him at the first sip of the bitter coffee, punctuated his pronouncement.

"Oh yeah! Exciting ain't it?" The waiter pulled the wad of gum he was chewing out of his mouth and stuck it behind his ear.

"I fail to see the thrill in written drivel."

"But the word is out all up and down the Alley!"

"Which word is that - poppycock or hogwash?"

"No no no! The word about the boy-who-lived being kidnapped by the escaped convict, Sirius Black! Must be in terrible shape what with him being dead and all, nigh on three months now, is all I've got to say. What do you think about it?"

"Think about what?" Severus asked in irritation. He had paid little attention to the waiter's chatter, and yet the waiter had continued to natter along anyway. He loathed small talk.

"You know – about Black, the walking cadaver, the living impaired, the soulless corpse, the flesh-eating zombie. That must be what he is now, him being dead and buried by the Dementors. It's the only thing that can explain it, if you ask me."

"I didn't." Snape replied dryly. "There are no such things as necroambulists. People cannot come back from the dead. That is the one irrefutable fact of life. Dead is dead. Not even magic can change that." _'If it could Lily would be sitting next to me right now.'_

"If you say so Professor, but me, I think there must be something to it, after all it was in _both_ the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler."

"Neither exactly sources of empirical evidence."

"They wouldn't be offering such a large reward for Black's capture, and for the return of the boy, if it weren't so, would they?"

"Quite contraire - they can afford to offer any astronomical sum they want, as they know there is no danger of ever needing to pay off. It's a ploy to sell copies," Severus scoffed.

"Never looked at it that way ..." the waiter frowned. "It would explain though why there aren't more reports and sightings of them. Why my cousin Stan Shunpike - he drives the Night Bus you know - he said just the other day that he's been on a sharp lookout, but he hasn't seen hide or hair of 'em yet. Thinks they might be in disguise. But he figures he's in a good spot for that reward, since he runs into everyone sooner or later."

'_The way his cousin drives that contraption, he probably means that literally.' _Severus sneered inwardly as he took another sip of coffee flavoured mud and tried to ignore him.

"I tell you true, if Sirius Black or Harry Potter ever came and sat down at this table just where you are now, disguise or not, I'd know it. They wouldn't fool me, not for a minute. I have a keen eye I have."

"Indeed."

Snape fixed a stony eyed glare on the chatty man until he finally took the hint, set down the pot of coffee, and left Severus to finish his breakfast in peace. Sunday morning breakfast in Diagon Alley was a treat that Severus relished - except when the waiter tried to talk his ear off. It was one of the few times, when the shopping district was uncrowded and quiet. Severus hated crowds, especially noisy crowds, especially noisy crowds that consisted of children, especially noisy crowds that consisted of children that were current students of his, past students, or even potential student. Okay, he hated crowds that had any children in them whatsoever.

Anyone who knew Severus well was aware of his perpetual bad mood when it came to teaching children. Most were surprised that he ever became a teacher in the first place. They were also continually amazed that he had lasted this long as Potions Master at Hogwarts, and utterly astonished when he was named the Head of Slytherin House.

What those same people did not know, and what would have shocked them even more, was that Severus actually_ liked_ teaching, and that he considered it one of his passions. He truly enjoyed passing on his knowledge of his beloved potions. That is, when he had a student who had the desire to learn the art. It was just that those students were so few and far between. He had totally given up on finding such an apprentice in the latest batch of first years.

Every year he looked forward to the first day of class with the anticipation of seeing that spark in the eyes of that one student who was inspired by his carefully designed introduction to the world of potions. Alas, this year's batch was worse than the last. This year, he had had to deal with not only one, but _two,_ new first year Weasley boys – and _both _of them Gryffindors! If the fates had been half way considerate at all, they would never have done that to him.

The Weasley twins had caused him nothing but trouble since the moment they first set foot in his lab. From putting slow leaking holes in their classmates cauldrons, to sending gelatinous globs of who-knows-what-they-actually-brewed-since-they-didn't-follow-the-instructions-let-alone-read-them onto the high vaulted ceilings, where they remained suspended unnoticed for hours. Then when some innocent student stepped unawares underneath, they would receive a surprise shower from up above, the results of which were not pretty. The unfortunate recipients would break out in boils, turn purple, or puff up to the size of a small water buffalo.

He had escorted more pupils to the Hospital wing those first few months than in all of his other years teaching combined. Nothing and no one, was safe from the twins, not even members of their own family. He would give them credit for that at least – they were equal opportunity pranksters and doled them out indiscriminately, they didn't just pick on the Slytherins as most Gryffindors were want to do.

Severus had already had to rescue their older brother Percy, and Percy's pet rat, from the demonic duo's clutches, before both brother and rat met with a most untimely demise. Not that either was grateful for his considerate act, the ruddy rat even tried to bite him! He vowed that the next time he caught the twins torturing the mangy rodent (and he had no doubt but that they would) that he would not step in to stop them.

He hated to admit it, as giving up his longstanding grudge (even a little) was not in his nature, but the twins were ten times worse than the Marauders had ever been, and there were only two of them to the Marauder's four. Therefore, when seemingly out of the blue the Headmaster proposed he go on an all expense paid sabbatical, it was safe to say that he was overjoyed at the idea and immediately began making plans.

For a little over two years, he had a strong yen to take a sojourn to the lovely Ruhr Area in Germany. He wasn't sure why that area in particular intrigued his thoughts as he had never been there before, but it popped into his head one day spring day, and ever since then he hadn't been able to shake it out. He was almost afraid of what he would find if he did go, he wondered if it could be the Dark Lord calling him to his side. However, if it were to be him, Severus thought he would have felt dread in his soul and his dark mark burning on his arm, instead he felt hope and happiness in his heart.

When he first felt the sensation, he thought he was having indigestion, as he hadn't felt those kinds of feelings since Lily died. Nevertheless, when copious amounts of antacids didn't cure it, he was finally able to identify it. It was definitely a happy feeling he got whenever he dwelled on it. At first, the draw was so strong that when Albus couldn't see his way to give him the time off, he almost quit his job in order to follow the whim. Then practicality set in and he had pushed the feelings down.

It was strange though ... once Albus suggested the sabbatical a few months ago, and he started packing, he found the pull to travel to Germany was no longer there. He finally decided just to spend the time at Spinner's End instead of travelling. He hadn't been home much in the last decade and he had many old books that he would enjoy looking through again. While his plans sounded boring to the rest of the staff, the thought of unexpected childfree quiet time to himself was enough to make him salivate.

It turned out it was just as well he hadn't packed for a long trip, he thought, when he found out what the Headmaster's idea of a sabbatical was. Nothing that man offered ever came without strings attached - sticky, iron-strength strings like that an Acromantula web. Hm … could Albus be some sort of bizarre human hybrid and actually be part Acromantula? Fascinating thought …

The string in this instance turned out to be the 'one little favour that really won't take much time from your holiday' that Albus Dumbledore tacked on as a condition of letting him take some time off. The one little favour was to have him track down the dratted seed of his most hated nemesis, James Potter.

Oh, he supposed he could have refused, in fact he remembered doing so – several times. Nevertheless, his vehement refusal apparently didn't take, because there he was, stuck in the middle of muggle suburbia surrounded by a crowd of short empty-headed nine-year-olds. Once again, he was the fall guy for the cruel twists of fate.

When he first laid eyes on the famous Harry Potter all he could see was his rival James. Harry had the same thick misbehaving hair that James had always turned to his advantage, by purposefully mussing it even more, to make him appear as if he had just stepped off his broom after winning a Quidditch match.

Severus always envied him his hair. Where James' gave him a dashing carefree air, Severus' was thin, limp, and greasy and bespoke of someone neither dashing nor carefree. The child also had the graceful movements of an athlete, the same as his attention seeking Quidditch Cup winning father. Lastly, he apparently had James' same bad eyesight, although with horrible heavy round frames instead of the designer ones his father used to sport on his smug face.

Nevertheless, when he ignored the messy black hair and glasses, he could also see his friend Lily in the boy, the startling emerald green eyes, the shape of his mouth and nose, the placement of his cheekbones. In fact, if it weren't for the hair and glasses, he would look nothing like James Potter. More the pity, now whenever he looked at the child, he saw what could have been his own son, only with unmanageable hair.

What angered Severus the most was that Albus had to have known. He remembered the old goat advising him to see Harry as his own person, not a copy of his father. He had to have known he would have seen Lily in him - and he did. So much so that it hurt.

He refused to think about the boy any longer. It was his vacation, a real vacation this time, if only for a weekend, and he was going to make the most of it. Things were what they were. Nothing could change it. Lily was dead, and now he was teaching her son ...

... and his coffee was cold. Not that he knew what the one had to do with the other, except that they were both facts of life he had to deal with.

'_No more thinking about Harry Potter. You are going to enjoy your last day of freedom before going back to that hell you call a life.' _Severus scolded himself as he firmly put down his cup and signalled for the chatty gum-chewing waiter to bring him his bill.

"That'll be three Galleons two Sickles and a Knut, Professor," the waiter said hurrying over and placing the tab on the table.

"What? That is preposterous! I only ordered a pot of coffee and a plate of scones. This is wrong!" Severus scowled fiercely at the bill and then at the waiter. "See here? There are extraneous items on this bill! I did not order two burgers, and I most certainly did NOT order chips."

"No, but your son did."

"I have no son you idiot! Do you see _anyone_ with me?"

"Oh yes you do. I served him myself, right here at this very table not two weeks ago. Put the meal on your tab he did."

"I don't know who you served, but it most certainly was not my son."

"Oh righty-o, sorry Sir … your _adopted_ son," The waiter nodded knowingly giving him a big wink.

"I tell you again – this time much slower, as you seem to be having a hard time comprehending simple facts – I. HAVE. NO. SON. Adopted or otherwise."

"Then who was it that put those on your tab?" The waiter asked, pointing to the disputed items listed on the bill.

"How in Merlin's name should I know?" Severus asked in frustration.

"Well it's your tab, you should know who you're letting use it," argued the waiter with flawed circular logic.

"You weren't a Hogwart's graduate were you?"

"Nah, village school," the waiter replied blowing a large gum bubble and popping it.

"Thank heavens for that." Severus said dryly and looked at the bill again. When he did, he jumped to a logical, yet flawed, conclusion of his own. "The bill says you charged me for _two_ burgers …"

"Come to think of it, you're right Professor! I'd almost forgotten that there were two. See! I knew they belonged to you, you do know them."

"Tell me, just what did my 'sons' look like?" He queried, steeling himself to hear a description of the ginger haired Weasley twin terrors.

"Oh not 'sons' just 'son', as I said."

"But you just said there were two of them," he argued.

"So I did. Let's see now ..." the waiter mumbled thoughtfully while he chewed on his gum, "… he looked like a kid … you know, young … kid sized … Stan met 'em too … Stan's my cousin ... the one I told you about that drives the Night Bus ..."

"Yes, yes, Stan, maniac driver, now get on with the description!"

"Well Stan's kind of on the skinny side and tall and he ..."

"The boy!" Severus yelled furiously.

"Oh right! Well kid sized like I said and he had a black dog with him … think the boy said his name was Roy G. Biv or Royce Bivel or Raymond Bivins or sump'in odd like that. Just a friendly piece of advice here Professor – take it or leave it - but don't ya think you really oughter give the kid your last name? Might make him feel a bit better 'bout being adopted you know - seemed a might apprehensive 'bout the whole thing."

"Not two boys, but one boy and a black dog?" Severus asked to confirm, choosing not to comment on the waiter's unsolicited advice.

'_It couldn't be ... could it?' _Severus started to question himself, and then dismissed the thought immediately,_ 'NO! That was impossible. Black is dead - and the dead do not come back to life. Besides, Potter is in Little Whinging living with muggles. I saw him there myself not forty-two hours ago. He is not traipsing about Diagon Alley with his dead godfather under everyone's noses, and audaciously charging their dinner to me. That would be ludicrous! It had to be the Weasleys twins somehow. I wouldn't put it past them. But how did they do it when …'_

"… they should have been in school!" he scornfully finished the thought out loud.

"Right there! See now Professor! I knew they were yours! I'm great with faces. Never get 'em wrong. Now do you want to settle that bill?"

Severus growled but he paid the bill anyway, if for no other reason than it was a small price to pay to put an end to the maddening conversation.

'_When I get back to Hogwarts, I will make the Weasley duo work off every last Knut they owe me. They will be scrubbing my lab with their toothbrushes until it shines, I'll even make them scrub the ceiling if there still is one.' _Severus was so busy fuming and plotting revenge as he stalked away from the Ice Cream Parlour that he didn't even notice the stares he was getting from the people who scattered out of his way as he stormed down the centre of Diagon Alley, arriving at the Apothecary just as it opened.

At the end of January, when he had last stopped in, he had placed a rather large order, expecting to be able to pick it up the following month. However, that was before Albus waylaid him and his plans. Nevertheless, he would get them now, and then spend a nice afternoon puttering around with his potions. He had ordered several very rare ingredients and a sample of potion that he wanted to study further. It was just what he needed to unwind and relax.

Looking forward to the rest of his day with anticipation, he greeted the pharmacist with one of his rare almost smiles and what might have even passed for a congenial nod of the head, only to leave an hour later in a huff, with a undisguised glower of displeasure plastered on his face. Not only had the Apothecary not held his order of rare ingredients, and instead sold them on the second market to a dealer in Knockturn Alley to free up the shelf space, they had sold his sample of wolfsbane potion that he had special ordered from Canada.

True, it was past the four-week limit for holding orders, but he was a long time customer, and had thought they would have at least had the courtesy to contact him first. When he complained, they told him that they had left word at the school, and had been assured by none other than the Headmaster himself that he would pass along their message. Now he had another bone to pick with Albus when he got back.

The ingredients were one thing, other than the hefty non-refundable deposit he lost that he would insist Albus reimburse him for personally, but the potion sample was quite another. He had heard that a well renowned Canadian Potion Grand Master had added some additional components.

While it was a promising new formula, the potion grapevine had it that it could also cause some unusual side effects. Severus had wanted to study it to see if he could duplicate the benefits while eliminating the disadvantages, and thereby improve on his already improved version of the original formula.

Because of a close call he had had as a teenager with a werewolf, one of his personal life goals was to discover a cure for lycanthrope and to eradicate the disease from the face of the earth. He felt that lycanthrope had to be a bacterial virus because of the way it was transmitted and new victims infected. If he could only find the right key, he was sure he could come up with an antidote, or at least a more effective treatment.

It had taken him months of painstaking negotiation between the Apothecary and the Grand Master, before the one finally agreed to part with a sample, and the other agreed to arrange for its transportation, and now the Apothecary had sold it! The owner was apologetic, but defended his ignorant clerk's actions as the potion had been technically 'abandoned' in due course. Worse - they couldn't even tell him to whom they sold it!

As it wasn't a legally 'registered' version of the potion, they didn't actually need to file the normal paperwork with the ministry as to its purchase so, while the clerk thought the werewolf looked vaguely familiar, he didn't know who he was. The clerk also thought that the purchaser might possibly have been a visiting from another country, especially since he was willing to pay the extra money to avoid the threat of the register. Since the clerk was unaware of the unusual properties in this version of the potion, he hadn't warned the unsuspecting purchaser.

If the clerk had only gotten his name Severus might have been able to track him down, but he hadn't, so there was no way for him to warn the person. Although the Apothecary was the one who made the mistake, Severus still felt deeply responsible for the potion being there in the first place.

After leaving the Apothecary, Severus walked quickly down Diagon Alley towards the intersection with Knockturn. If he had any luck at all, he would get to Curatoran's shop of Fine Exotics before all his rare ingredients were gone for good. If any of the other Potion Masters around had already found out about them, he could kiss his Basilisk spleen and Dragon gallbladder goodbye.

Preoccupied as he passed the Quality Quidditch Supplies Shop, he didn't notice the small boy-sized redheaded missile barrelling out the shop's front door, until it knocked him backwards onto his bum.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! Watch where you are going young man! Really! I can't take you anywhere," his mother's voice screeched from the Stationery Shop one door down.

"Sorry Mum!" the young boy replied automatically, thoughtlessly not including the man that he had just bowled over in the apology.

"Professor Snape! Are you alright?" Molly Weasley fretted as she came bustling over to help him up, and then energetically tried to brush off his robes while still holding tight to the hand of a small shy girl hiding behind her skirt.

"I am quite all right Madame, you may kindly unhand me." Severus bristled back at her motherly attention.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. Say you're sorry Ronald."

"Sorry."

"Where are your manners today? This is one of your brother's teachers! Say you are sorry - _Professor_."

"Sorry Professor," the boy parroted, trying not to smirk about knocking down one of his brother's teachers.

Severus Snape gave him a long appraising look. He was young, redheaded, freckled, clutching a worn black teddy bear. The boy had the same mischievous glint in his eyes that his elder twin brothers possessed. That could only mean ... another Weasley.

"Please forgive us Professor Snape. Arthur and I brought the kids shopping here late in the day a few weeks back and had a bit of trouble. So today, I brought them early to miss the crowds, easier to keep track of them you know. We didn't expect to run into anyone else." Molly smiled weakly at her own pun, and then tried to smooth the situation over by being overly sociable. "I wasn't aware you were in London, I heard from my boys you had taken a sabbatical."

"And I wasn't aware you had even … _more _… children. Shall we call it even?" he said effectively closing the conversation and with a curt nod, left her and her children standing on the pavement while he swept past. Behind him, he could hear Molly scolding the young boy. He slowed as the word 'dog' caught his ear.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley where were you? I looked and I looked! I called and I called. No Ron. No Mr. Dog. Just wait till we get back to the Burrow, you'll be degnoming the garden till your father gets home."

"But Muuuuum! I was showing Mr. Dog the new brooms. They're really brilliant! Can I have one? Huh? Can I?"

"No Ron you may not. You know we don't have money for toy brooms."

"Not a _toy_ broom Mum! I _need _a _real_ one. One of my very very own. Pleeeeasssse?"

"And why do you need real one of your very own? We have plenty at home and with your brothers all at school, you don't even have to share with anyone but your sister."

"But Mum! Those brooms can hardly get off the ground anymore. Mr. Dog wants me to take him flying! Mr. Dog wants a Nimbus!"

"Nimbus - shimbus! You and that stuffed bear of yours are just going to have to suffer down here on the ground with the rest of us Weasleys. The answer is still no."

"Then can we at least get some burgers and chips? Me and Mr. Dog are hungry!"

"You just had breakfast young man! Merlin's pants! I swear you have hollow legs, and so does that teddy bear of yours. And why you persist in calling a teddy bear 'Mr. Dog' is beyond me. Makes no sense. Now hop to it young man, I want to get to the Second-Hand Robe shop before they get busy ..."

"But Mum! I'll die if I have to do more shopping!" the young boy whinged.

"Oh you'll live right enough. I need to find something nice for your brother's graduation. He shot up another foot since Christmas. His robes can't be altered anymore, and your father doesn't have one to spare. And don't you go off trying to sneak down Knockturn Alley again. I know that place fascinates you, but if I've told you once, I've told you ten million times if I catch you down there by yourself again…"

Molly's voice got softer and softer and she pulled her children down the street, talking non-stop the whole way.

Severus stared after them open mouthed. The small girl broke her mother's hold and stopped to turn around and wave shyly at him before turning again and hurrying to catch up with her mother and brother.

'_Burgers and chips? A black stuffed toy called Mr. Dog? Roy G. Biv - Raymond Bivins – could it have been ... Ronald Bilius? Mrs. Weasley did say they were here with their children a few weeks ago. Could the waiter at Florean Fortescue's have been so blind as to mistake a ginger haired child – a Weasley no less - for __**my**__ son? Well, it makes more sense than the waiter's theory of a zombie Black wandering around Diagon Alley with a kidnapped Potter in broad daylight,' _Severus thought derisively.

He was tempted to call after Molly Weasley and announce that he would be sending them an invoice for the food her child had charged to him, but then thought better of it. Bill Weasley, the oldest Weasley son would be graduating in a few short months from Hogwarts. He was one of the few Weasley boys that Severus could tolerate and he felt he did deserve a halfway decent robe for his ceremony.

If he threatened Molly with making restitution, then he would doom Bill to a tattered too short robe for his big day, all for the actions of a child too young to know any better. No, he would not do that to Bill Weasley, it wasn't fair, and Gryffindors didn't have the market cornered on that virtue no matter how much they liked to think so. He was fair - Slytherin fair, and fair being fair, he would go back to his original plan of making the terrible twins work off the debt in the dungeons. One Weasley brother ought to be as good as the other on which to take out his frustrations, and he would get far more satisfaction value out of his three Galleons this way.

The future fate of the Weasleys offspring decided, he took a deep breath and turned down Knockturn Alley. The gloomy atmosphere immediately enveloped him. It had been eight years since he last ventured down the alley, but it hadn't changed a bit. It had always seemed to him as if Knockturn somehow absorbed any light that dared try to shine between its crumbling walls. It was always dimly lit with a chill wind that whistled through the cracks between the buildings, no matter if day or night, the season, or how bright the sky. It was as if time was perpetually stuck on a quarter to midnight in the dead of winter.

Severus pulled his robes tighter around him like a protective shield and plunged ahead. It was a long way to the end of the alley, and his goal of rescuing his precious ingredients from potentially falling into the hands of less deserving Potions Masters. He quickened his step, and discretely withdrew his wand from its holster, as he felt dozens of pairs of greedy eyes following his steps.

The deeper he went, the narrower the alley grew, and the more heightened his sense of danger became. Despite the nagging voice in his head, telling him to retreat and to do it quickly, he just couldn't let go of his quest. With all of his spy senses on overdrive, he dodged and sidestepped skilfully through the hags and peddlers crowding the pavement in front of the seedy shops. He _must_ have his ingredients, he _must! _

In an odd moment of ironic introspection, it dawned on him that his life was really quite pitiful, when securing a potions ingredient was the most important all-consuming passion in it. Maybe that was why he was so defensive when the waiter accused him of having a son. It hurt to think about what would never be his, and what his life had become - sad and hollow.

There was only one person he had ever considered as family, but his own actions had been the catalyst that brought about her untimely death. As a self-imposed life sentence, he now led a cold solitary life. If he was to be truly honest with himself, he would admit it was because he was scared, scared of caring about someone again and then hurting that person as he had done to his lovely Lily. However pitiful, pathetic, or ironic his life was, it was his life and he pushed on.

Reaching the end of the alley, he swept into Curatoran's shop with his well-perfected billow of black robes meant to impress and intimidate. Severus Snape considered himself to be a shrewd negotiator, and he knew the value of first impressions to set the stage to his benefit. He wanted to make sure the shopkeeper would not give him any trouble in handing over what he viewed as rightfully his, and then to do so at a more than reasonable price for his trouble.

Severus had heard of Duncan Curatoran and of his dealings on the black market in rare magical creatures and their parts, and had been tempted on many occasions to check out his shop. Nevertheless, he had resisted, as he knew that if he wanted to keep his teaching position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he had to avoid any dealings that might look even the least bit suspicious, or illegal, to the Board of Trustees.

He just hoped this visit would go unnoticed by those esteemed individuals, for no matter how justified or innocent the reason as a convicted Ex-Death Eater, all his actions were under suspicion and intense scrutiny, and he could not afford to have his name linked in any way with dark magic. The 'good' people of the wizarding world did that enough on their own without him giving them any additional cause. Severus wouldn't be in Knockturn Alley now, if only Albus had just given him the message from the Apothecary, just as his life might have been so different if anyone had just cared … even a little, about a tall awkward shy boy. Maybe he would have a family now. Maybe he really would have had a son. Maybe …

'… _Bah! It's too late now. I made one tiny mistake by taking the dark mark, and they never let me forget it,' _he sneered to himself angrily. _'I was a bloody teenager for Merlin's sake! How much sense could I have had? If it had been one of those bloody Marauders then it would have been a different story. That arrogant lot practically got away with murdering me with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. However, when I do something stupid, I have to pay for it the rest of my life. Even though considering the circumstances, I really didn't have much choice, unlike those bigheaded Marauders. Nevertheless, did that matter a whit? Noooooo! I have to walk the straight and narrow, with nary a misstep, or they're ready to haul my arse off to Azkaban. If that happens again, not even Albus will be able to get me back out. I have to be twice as virtuous, as all of those self-righteous hypocrites rolled together are, to be considered as even half as good. How fair is that?'_

"Ahem! May I help you with something Sir? Or did you just stop in my shop to gather your thoughts?"

Doc Curatoran's latest customer had blown in as if he had a definite purpose in mind, and then had stopped in the middle of the store, frozen in place as if his mind was lost in another world. There was obviously some weighty concern on his mind.

"Perhaps, you're in need of a friendly chat and some mind healing? Some people say I have a natural knack for it and should have kept this place a bar as my old man ran here before me, but I like the animals. Give me plenty of time to listen though. So why don't you pull up a stool? I'd offer you the couch, only a pair of nesting Fwoopers took it over," the shopkeeper offered invitingly with an edge of humour in his voice.

The question broke Severus out of his reverie and he whipped around to face the counter with his wand drawn, all his spy sense once again fully wound and ready to spring. Instead of the fearsome threat he expected, all he faced was a mild mannered shopkeeper, with a merry twinkle in his warm brown eyes, and an incongruous feathered scarf draped around his neck.

"Whoa there! I'm unarmed! I don't carry a wand. It's too dangerous in the shop because the Pixies would steal it. So take what you want, and you're welcome to them, especially if what you want is a Cornish Pixie or two. I'm running a special." Doc replied his hands up the entire time.

"What are you blathering about?" Severus asked rudely in order to mask his temporary confusion at the unfamiliar feeling of being lost in thought. Daydreaming, when you are a spy, can get you killed.

"Pixies – they're nothing but trouble if you ask me. However if you want some, help yourself." Doc said nodding towards the backroom where the electric blue Cornish Pixies were rattling their cages and making a ruckus.

"Oh gods no!" Severus shuddered at the thought, and then finally noticing the shopkeeper still had his hands in the air as if he were being robbed, he lowered his wand. "My apologies, you caught me off guard."

"Seemed like a real mind puzzle you were working on there. Offer's still open, anytime."

"Offer?"

"For a friendly chat, I'm a real good listener if you want to talk out whatever's bothering you …" at the cold stare he got at the sociable offer, Doc lowered his hands and shrugged. "… or not."

"Definitely not," he answered coolly. "But I do thank you for the offer."

"So if not a chat, what brings a gentleman such as yourself into my humble little shop?" the shopkeeper asked curiously.

The scarf Doc wore came to life and slithered down his arm and onto a nearby shelf where it coiled up protectively and poised to strike. The feathered serpent decided to keep a sharp eye on the new customer in case he threatened Doc again.

The intense emerald gaze of the rare Occamcy startled Severus and brought his focus back to his purpose for being there.

"I am here to claim my potion ingredients. I had a special order at the Apothecary, which they failed to hold for me when circumstances beyond my control unavoidably detained me. They mistakenly sold them to you. I will reimburse you for your costs and kindly take my items now, thank you." Severus decisively announced, thinking that by doing so he gave the shopkeeper no room to negotiate.

What Severus Snape didn't count on the fact that Doc liked to talk as much as he liked to listen … endlessly, about anything and everything under the moon, sun, or stars, or even under the random comet or asteroid - and negotiation was a form of talking. So what if Severus didn't want to chat? Shrug ... it didn't matter to Doc. He would just negotiate instead. One way, or the other, all of Doc's customers was fated to pay his price before they got out of the shop.

Two and a half hours later, Severus was almost willing to pay double just to get Doc to shut up for two minutes. Another forty-five minutes, he did just that after successfully negotiating the return of the majority of his precious potions ingredients. His full order of Billywig stingers, Dragon gallbladder and toenails, Graphorn hide, a bag of Jobberknoll feathers, and box of Hippocampus Scales were all still intact, but the vial of Venetian Viper venom and the jar of explosive essence of Erumpent had already been re-sold.

Severus wisely decided to not attempt tracking down the purchaser of the last two items to demand their return, when the description of the tall aristocratic man with white blonde hair and his diminutive clone sidekick, sounded all too familiar.

"Very nice doing business with you Mister … er … Mister …?" Doc frowned as he started sacking up the purchase. "We've been talking for hours and I just realized I never caught your name."

"It's … _(cough) …_" Severus feigned a coughing fit to avoid saying his name. He didn't want to seem too paranoid, but you can never be too careful, especially while doing business in Knockturn Alley. "Excuse me, tickle in my throat. How much did you say I owed you in total?"

"Three hundred seventy-two Galleons."

Severus bristled at the exorbitant price, but opened his coin bag and started counting. Coming up over fifty Galleons short, he knew he had little recourse left. He would have to have it billed to his vault at Gringotts, and to do so, he would have to give the shopkeeper his name - so much for not leaving a paper trail for the Board of Trustees to discover. However, after all this trouble, he refused to leave without his items.

"You were a rough bargainer, and I find myself a little short of the price." Severus admitted stiffly pulling closed the strings on his coin bag and re-pocketing it. "However, I have more than enough in my vault at Gringotts. I would ask that you send them the bill."

"Well I don't know ... normally, I do a cash only business …" Doc replied slowly, "… but you seem a trustworthy sort. I suppose seeing as it is such a large purchase, I could see my way to do that this once. If you'd be so kind as to write out the payment order," he requested placing a piece of parchment and quill on the counter in front of Severus.

"Certainly, I do appreciate this. I have been anticipating this order for quite a while. It would have set my research back significantly waiting for a replacement shipment. However, I would appreciate this transaction being kept between us," Severus remarked as he wrote the order in his neat crisp script and handed it back to the shopkeeper.

"No worries there Sir, all my transactions are strictly confidential. Your bank draft looks all in order," Doc said glancing over the parchment. "Wait … _you're_ Professor Snape? The Professor Severus Snape - the Hogwart's Potion's Master?"

"Regrettably, while I am indeed Severus Snape, at this moment I cannot claim the honour of Potion's Master of Hogwarts."

"No? Got fired did you?"

"Hardly," he returned dryly. "I am on … _(cough)_ … 'sabbatical' from Hogwarts."

"I'm pleased to hear it, but if you don't mind me saying so Professor, you really ought to do something about that cough, before it gets out of control like that boy of yours. Ha-ha! Young boys do need a lot of attention, don't they? Listen to me! There's really no need to tell you that is there? I've always say that balancing work and personal life is very important for good mental health, as much as it is for physical health. I do appreciate seeing a busy man taking time off to spend it where it truly counts - with family."

"Maybe there is a need to tell me, as I have no idea what you are talking about." For the life of him, Severus did not understand where all these people got the erroneous impression that he had a son.

"I'm referring to you setting a good example for your son. After all you came back to live up to your obligations, so you obviously take your role as a parent seriously. Guess I win that bet after all just let me tell the others …" he gloated with a chuckle.

Taking his wand out of the cash register, where he stored it for safekeeping, the shopkeeper cast the _Expecto Patronum _spell, and asmall fluffy silver patronus, which looked to be a cross between a pygmy puff and a bunny, popped out the end with a plop onto the counter. With a twitch of its floppy ears, it went scurrying out the door on its non-existent legs. Severus' guard went up immediately at the thought of who-knew-who being informed of who-know-what when he was trapped at the end of a blind alley.

His eyes narrowed at the peculiar turn of events.

'_What in Merlin's name is the fool chattering on about now? What family? I have no family. WHY is it that EVERYWHERE I go today I am being accosted with PARENTAL ADVICE ? Get what under control? I am ALWAYS under control! Moreover, what obligations is he dithering on about? I owe this man nothing. And what …'_

"…bet?" Finishing his private thoughts out loud was becoming an irritating habit.

"Ha-ha-ha! All of us merchants up and down Knockturn Alley have been betting on whether or not you'd come back and make good on your promise. It was running twenty to one against, me being the one."

"Make good on what promise?" Severus asked slowly. He had the sneaking suspicion he was going to regret hearing the answer.

"Your I.O.U., I found it just this morning." Doc said reaching into the till again, and this time pulling out a second sheet of parchment and handing it to him.

_Payment for one extra smallish miscellaneous egg _- _four Sickles and twenty-eight Knuts plus full restitution for any damages caused by my repentant son and his magnificent dog on the night of March Seventeenth when they inadvertently loosed your Cornish Pixies they are very sorry about that._

– _Professor Snape, Potions Master_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Got to say, it's pretty decent of you. If you hadn't claimed responsibility for what your boy did, I would have never known what really happened. I thought the pixies just went more insane than usual. You really should have told me who you were much earlier, could have made those 'negotiations' of yours a little … ha-ha-ha … _smoother_," he winked broadly and offered his hand.

Severus looked up from the parchment and stared at the man as if he had gone mental. Doc dropped his hand.

"Fine then, all business it is. So if you'd just rewrite the payment order to include the damages … the total now comes to two thousand eight hundred seventy two Galleons … and one Knut."

"What?" Severus asked, the ridiculousness of the situation still not sinking in, despite the evidence in his hand.

"I said that will be two thousand eight hundred seventy two Galleons and one Knut."

Indignant, Severus snarled and disdainfully handed the I.O.U. back at arm's length.

"That is not my signature. This is obviously a hoax, and a poorly done one at that. The handwriting looks nothing like mine. Compare it yourself." He ordered putting his written payment down on the counter next to the forged I.O.U. "This handwriting is sloppy, and the punctuation atrocious. It is composed of one long run-on sentence, and it looks as though a child wrote it."

"A hoax? Maybe so. And you are right, the handwriting doesn't appear to be yours," Doc said slowly, as he carefully assessed the situation. "But still, quite a few of the shopkeepers remembered seeing a boy that night, so it must have been your son who wrote and left the note. Who else would have known about it? You can't deny that."

"I can, and I do. I have no son," Severus seethed. _'I did overhear Molly Weasley chastising her son for having been in Knockturn Alley without supervision. She also mentioned that when they were here a few weeks ago that they had a bit of trouble. That does it! I will have that Weasley boy in detention before his sorting is even over.'_

"Okay … if you say so. However, let's look at this reasonably. Several people talked to him, and he told all of them that he was your recently adopted son."

"I don't have a son - adopted or otherwise."

Doc took a long appraising gaze at the severe looking potions master. "Who would claim that honour if they didn't have to?"

"How the devil should I know?"

"Well … the way I see it, you might as well claim him back, whether it's true or not. If you don't, everyone will think you're just trying to renege on your debts. If the son causes damage, the father owns the debt - it just part of parenting. I realize you're new to that, but you'll just have to get used to it." Doc decided stubbornly, withholding the bag of coveted potion ingredients.

Nodding slyly towards the front window, where several hags were peering in, he added, "All the shopkeepers and peddlers know that you're here now. Deny it all you want, they've all seen the I.O.U. and they'll be expecting you to make good to them too."

"And why on earth would they believe I owe them anything? I understand you feel you have a claim because of this false document. However, why should anyone else?"

"The pixies did a lot of damage all over the alley before I could get them rounded up." Doc said simply. "But don't worry, most of the damage was done in my shop, a few Galleons here and there should clear up the rest easy."

Severus knew he was trapped. However he didn't blame the crafty shopkeeper in front of him. He blamed one freckled faced red-headed child, who probably didn't even realize he had effective done what no man had done before: trapped the foremost accomplished spy of the Order of the Phoenix, in an inextricable web of deceit and trickery. A nine-year-old, with a teddy bear named Mr. Dog, had bested him at his own game. If the situation weren't so preposterous, it would have been funny.

"Fine," Severus spat out, crumpling up the original payment order and taking a fresh sheet of parchment. "There you are, two thousand eight hundred and seventy two Galleons. I will take my purchase now."

"Whoa … hold on there just a minute." Doc said shaking his head. "You are intending to pay up in full aren't you?"

"What is it now?" Severus snarled loudly causing the Cornish pixies to start up their high-pitched squealing chorus again.

"Where's my Knut? I know it seems petty to a rich man such as you, but a debt's a debt, and I can use every Knut I can get. Caring for magical creatures is not cheap. The total came to two thousand eight hundred seventy two Galleons _and_ one Knut." Doc said holding out his hand expectantly.

"What in blazes is the Knut for?" Severus asked crossly. This was becoming ridiculous!

"The egg. You were short one Knut. None of my eggs are 'extra smallish'."

"I'm not even going to ask ..." Severus glared daggers at the man as he opened his coin bag and fished out the single bronze coin and placed it on his open palm.

"Pleasure doing business with you, and you have yourself a nice day." Doc said cheerily. Severus snatched the bag from him and stormed out of the shop without a backwards glance, but with the same impressive billow of black robes with which he had arrived.

"Now that was a shrewd negotiator if I ever saw one," Doc chuckled to himself as he rang up the sale. The Occamcy slithered back up his arm to settle around his neck once more like a fluffy feathered boa.

'_Nice day ... I'll give you a nice day! Just let me get my hands on that Weasley brat …'_

Severus had hardly stepped foot on the pavement outside the shop, when he was surrounded on all sides by Knockturn shopkeepers waving bills under his nose. Doc wasn't quite right, while a few Galleons did clear up the rest, it was more like a few Galleons to every shopkeeper he passed on his way back to Diagon Alley, the average coming out to three Galleons.

By the time he had run the gauntlet, his ready funds were all but depleted, leaving him to barter his way out of some of the larger tabs by trading some of his ingredients to pay the bills, as these merchants did not take as kindly to the suggestion of a Gringott payment order as did Curatoran. They insisted on cash or trade.

The Billywig stingers went first. Severus really didn't have a purpose for them at this time he was just intrigued by their levitation properties, thinking they might be the missing ingredient in a broomless flight potion with which he had been tinkering. Then went the Jobberknoll feathers, these were most useful for memory potions. In the back of his mind, Severus had wondered if a tincture of these combined with Phoenix tears, would be useful for the treatment for the Longbottoms. The Hippocampus Scales, used for crystallizing potions into a fine powder, followed the stingers and feathers quickly. Severus had hoped to use them to see if he couldn't make the wolfsbane potion into a more palatable pill form and thus ensure more compliance of those inflicted.

As his bag grew ever lighter, Ron Weasley's future in detention grew ever longer. By the time he finished paying all of his 'debts' all he had left was a meagre scrap of the Graphorn hide, a quarter of the dragon gallbladder, one dragon toenail, and a virtually empty coin purse. This was the most expensive shopping trip he had ever been on, costing him over a full year's salary.

Clutching the small bag of his left over rare ingredients, Severus passed quickly through the crowd at the Leaky Cauldron without even a nod to the bartender Tom. He just wanted to flee Diagon Alley before anyone else handed him a bill for damages.

Since the precious dragon gallbladder was extremely delicate, he decided to take the Night Bus home instead of risk damaging the remaining piece by apparating. Besides, it would feel good to sit down somewhere, his injured leg ached something fierce after all that walking. Taking out his wand, he summoned the vivid violet bus and within minutes, it screeched to a halt in front of him.

"Where to Professor?" the driver Stan Shunpike asked as he stepped aboard.

"Spinner's End."

"That'll be three Galleons and five Sickles Professor."

"What? It's normally only five Sickles! Wait … don't tell me, let me guess. You're also carrying a tab of three Galleons that you wish for me to pay?"

Stan nodded, "It was a sickle shy of three Galleons, but with carrying the tab and all, it was only fair to round it up to an even three Galleons - for your convenience Sir, of course. I was sure you would want to include a tip."

"Of course," Severus said humourlessly, and without the energy left to argue, he handed over his moneybag with the last of his money. "Here, just take it all."

The day had started out so promising, but it had ended up being one of the longest ones that he could remember. Looking up at the calendar pinned above the front window of the Night Bus he noticed the date. It was Sunday the first day of April, All Fool's Day. He should have known, he thought shaking his head as he sat down on a bed in the triple-decker bus, and it took off in a rush of air and a screech of tires. He wondered if the youngest Weasley boy had somehow managed to spellotape a 'Kick Me' sign on his back when he wasn't looking.

'_What did Molly Weasley say the wretched child's name was? Ah, yes! Ronald. Ronald Bilius Weasley.' _A name he would not forget anytime soon. It would not be a happy day, for the youngest Weasley boy, when Ronald joined his brothers at Hogwarts.

_'He'll probably be another Gryffindor when he does … in what - about another year? He looked about nine or ten … Gods__! Then he will probably be in the same class as the boy-that-lives-to-be-an-annoying-thorn-in-my-side.' _Severus shuddered at the thought.

The Fates had it in for him. Somehow, he had gotten on their bad side. That was the only explanation that he could think of, as to why they would conspire to drive him insane, by sending him two brats to teach at the same time. Merlin! It would be like having another set of Weasley twins! He supposed he should be grateful the fates hadn't planned Gryffindor triplets for his future. He would never survive it there were three dunderheads to deal with of the same age.

It would not be a happy day for Severus Snape either, when that day came. However, formulating plans to make it even less happy for at least one of the future Gryffindors helped raise his spirits immensely. After all, who better to mete out punishment for the son, but the father? Didn't that fool Curatoran tell him that it just part of parenting and he'd have to get used to it? Come to think of it, he could very well get used to having a personal Gryffindor slave at his beck and call in the dungeons for seven years.

'_I will teach him to adopt himself to me without my permission. He will rue the day he decided to pass himself off as my son.' _

As the Night Bus zigzagged through the heavy London traffic, carrying Severus quickly away from Diagon Alley, a small smile crept up the corners of the Potion Master's lips.

'_What is that old saying? Ah yes … revenge is a dish best served cold.'_

"It's cold … my egg is cold." Sirius complained looking down with dismay at the congealed yellow blob on his plate.

"It's your own fault, you overslept. Besides, I'm sure you deserve it for something. Now eat it like a good boy, and I'll let you play for a little while today."

"Yes Mum," he replied contritely.

Sticking it all in his mouth at once and then grossly chewing with his mouth open, he made Holly giggle with glee from her highchair where she was painting masterpieces with her breakfast on every surface within her reach. Breakfast done, Sirius picked up the happy baby, and carried her into the living room where Lily, James and Remus were all lounging about on the floor and reading the Sunday paper.

"Your daughter's getting to be quite the little artist," he observed.

"Con artist is more like it." Lily laughed at the sight of Holly gleefully rubbing a handful of smashed 'nanners in Sirius' long hair to top off the sticky honey and porridge combination she had already splattered there.

"I think there is more of her breakfast in your hair, than in her tummy." James observed.

"How are you going to get that mess out?" Remus laughed.

"It needed cut anyway." Sirius shrugged. "It's kind of long. Maybe I'll shave too …"

"You are feeling better!" James sighed with relief. His friend always tended to prefer short hair and a clean-shaven face when he felt good.

"Lily has been taking very good care of me, so my 'bad days' are becoming 'not-so-bad' days," he admitted handing the sticky baby to her mother before sitting down on the wide arm of the comfy chair, and looking at the redhead speculatively. He had something on his mind, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up, as he knew he might regret it if he did.

"I thought you said yesterday that you could take care of yourself, and that I wasn't really helping." Lily said raising her eyebrows in surprise at his admission.

"I'm sorry about that. I know I've been really whingey. In fact, I've been acting more like a baby than snicklefritz here. However, I want you to know that I really do appreciate all you've done," he apologized sincerely. "You didn't have to do it. Not any of it."

"Yes I did. You're part of this family, and I love you."

"I heard you and James talking this morning … do you really mean that - what you just said?" Sirius asked with a catch in his voice. "Even after James told you what I did to Snivellus? Er … I mean Snape. And ... um … and how I did it?"

James and Remus exchanged glances. They didn't think that Sirius remembered that.

"Yeah it all came back to me ... 'Wrackspurts' ... thin guys... really thin," Sirius said noticing their raised eyebrows. "Lily, I also heard you say that you can love someone and still not want them to live in the same house as you. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, especially not you. Now that you know what a bloody horrid git I am ... Am I still welcome here?" Sirius sat quietly while the question hung heavy in the air. Unable to look anyone in the eyes, he looked at his hands instead as if they held the answer he was so desperate to hear.

Lily was too dumbfounded for words. To fill her silence, James and Remus both started talking at once to reassure their friend that he was always welcome, but he put up his hands to stop them.

"No guys - don't say anything, Lily is the one I wronged so it's her decision." Sirius took a deep ragged breath and continued. "Lily, I had eight long years to think about everything I ever did wrong, and I am so sorry for what I did - to all of you, even to Sniv … um... Snape. I was a stupid teenager, not that that is much of an excuse. You told James you wouldn't take it out on me until I was back on my feet, so I just wanted you to know that I really am much better. So if you want me to leave, I'll understand."

At her continued silence, he started to stand back up. "I'll just go then …"

"Oh Sirius … STOP!" Lily cried out, putting Holly down on the rug to roll around and standing up to reach out to him. She took hold of his hands and pulled him back to the chair to sit down beside her, and then looked into his sad grey eyes. "I don't want you to go anywhere. Not without the rest of us that is. We're a family, and family sticks together. No matter what."

"You forgive me then?"

"I didn't say that," Lily said with an amused smile playing around her lips. "But what I am saying is that yes, I do mean it. I love you like a brother and someday I will forgive you for being an idiot one, I just can't tell you when that will be. However, what I can tell you right now is that you, baby brother, are in the dog house big time with your big sis."

Sirius hung his head in shame.

"Don't worry. I only plan to hold it over your head, and remind you of it, at every opportunity I get."

"Um ... _every_ opportunity?"

"Every last one - until you are nothing but a squirming mass of remorse and regret, and ready to do anything I want on the remote chance I might condescend to allow you to humiliate yourself by grovelling at my feet."

"That's fair," Sirius said breathing a sigh of relief.

"Don't be so sure," James said laughing at him, "she means it."

"Hey, I lived for years with dementors trying to suck out my soul. This is getting off pretty easy in comparison."

"You won't think so when I'm done with you." Lily said ominously.

"I warned him to beware the wrath of the redhead." Remus picked up another section of the paper and chucked out loud at the thought in his head, not paying attention to the fact that the redhead in question now had her attention focused solely on him.

"And just what else don't I know about?" Lily asked kicking his foot.

"What?" Remus startled back, and then realized he had said the thought out loud instead of just thinking it. "Oh … nothing really. We were just out shopping last night … and … and …" he looked helplessly at Sirius who held a finger to his lips to silence him about the secret entrance through which he had taken Harry to Gringotts.

"… and we got Harry a pet." Sirius covered quickly by jumping to another topic.

"And just what about this 'pet' would cause me to be wrathful?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'd like to know that myself." James chimed in. "I didn't think you had found one, it's been pretty quiet since you got back. I haven't heard the patter of little pet feet. It's not a pygmy puff is it? They don't have feet." he frowned. "I said no pygmy puffs. They give Harry nightmares."

"No it's not a pygmy puff. It's an egg."

"_An egg_? You got Harry an _EGG_?" James and Lily both gasped in unison staring at the pair incredulously, wondering how two grown men could mess up a simple task so badly.

"Uh … yeah. An egg. We, ah… we thought it might make a good family project? It'll be Easter in a couple weeks. That's when it's due to hatch … so you know … Easter? Egg? Put the two together and you get an Easter egg."

"Remus! I would have thought you would have known better. Sirius I can understand … but you? Really? An egg? For Merlin's sake, why?"

"Well, it just seemed a natural choice at the time … and Sirius talked me into it." Remus pointed accusingly at Sirius, who produced the egg from his pocket with a flourish and placed it on display on top of the little sofa pillow that was lying in centre of the rug.

"Isn't it pretty?" Sirius asked getting down on hands and knees and getting so close his nose almost touched the luminous shell.

"What is it going to hatch into?" Lily poked at it and sent it gently rocking on its little pillow platform.

"Er … that's where the wrath part comes in," Remus said neatly covering for his earlier mistake. "We aren't really sure. A bird of some sort … probably."

"Probably?"

"Well it is an egg," Sirius pointed out reasonably. "Birds lay eggs."

"So do reptiles," James supplied. "Didn't you ask what kind of egg it was before you bought it?"

Both men just shook their head 'No'.

"We … um … didn't think of it," Sirius said quickly. Actually, he had thought of it, and Remus had all but insisted on waking Doc Curatoran back up and asking him, but he had quickly dismissed his friends concerns. He hadn't wanted to ask, because if it were the missing Occamcy egg, he knew the shopkeeper wouldn't have parted with it so cheaply, if he did at all. He couldn't risk it, as it would have meant going back without any pet at all for his godson. "It was in a basket of miscellaneous marked down eggs. I don't think the shopkeeper would have known anyway being as they were all a jumble. Besides it _does_ meet all your pet criteria..."

"You see where I was going with the wrath bit?" Remus asked.

"Yes I do." Lily sighed and sat back on her heels. "You two went to Diagon Alley even though I told you not to. So what shop did you buy it at - Eeylops or the Menagerie?"

Sirius and Remus looked at each other before answering, "Er … it was a little … um ... south of there."

"South? But the only thing south is …" Lily's eyes got big. "You didn't!"

"Everything else was closed?" Sirius offered in way of explanation.

"So you really have no idea what it's going to be?" When both men shook their head 'no' she sighed again.

"Then take it back. If it doesn't hatch, then it will break Harry's heart, and if it does hatch and it turns out to be a dragon, or something equally unsuitable for a pet, it will still break Harry's heart when he has to give it up. I will absolutely NOT allow that to happen, especially, when the likelihood of successfully hatching an egg without an incubator is extremely small."

"How do you know that?" James asked curiously.

"Because I'm the smart one," she replied flippantly.

"Oh yeah, right," he glowered.

"No really it's true. Oh yes, the possibility of it hatching successfully is there, but it's remote." Lily said getting serious again. "I remember Tunie and I found a robin's egg when we were young. We tried to hatch it. Mum and Dad even went out and got us a real incubator at the pet store and a book telling us what to do. We followed all the instructions exactly and we failed. The baby bird died in the shell. We both cried for days. I don't want Harry to lose something else. He's lost enough in his life so far."

"But it could hatch … right?" James said thoughtfully. "And it's probably a magical creature, so maybe it's tougher than a normal egg."

"That's the other thing I am worried about - it not being a normal egg. I really can't think of anything that it might hatch into that would be suitable."

"Maybe it's a parrot," Sirius offered.

"A parrot? Really? How likely is that?" Lily made a very unladylike snort.

"More likely it's a bunny," James hypothesized picking up the egg and holding it at arm's length to study it.

"A bunny? How'd you get that?" Remus asked puzzled. "Rabbits don't lay eggs."

"Sure they do! Where do you think Easter eggs come from if not the Easter Bunny?" James laughed, the laughter spreading to the other two men until they were all holding their sides.

Holly rocked and rocked and rocked until she managed to roll over onto her tummy, and struggle up on her fat little arms to get a closer look at the nifty new toy that everyone seemed to think was more interesting than she was.

It didn't seem so nifty to her. It just sat there, not doing anything special or clever at all. She knew how to do lots of special and clever things, like putting things in her mouth, making her rattle jingle, and throwing temper tantrums on queue. She decided she was much cuter than the egg and didn't see why anyone at all was paying attention to it when she was in the same room. She thought she should point out this discrepancy, so she started to protest loudly at the top of her lungs.

"**WHAAAAAAA! WHAAAAAAA!"**

"Are you all totally insane! What if it hatches into something dangerous … what then? Where is your common sense? And that … _that Easter Egg _thing? Well, that is just too freaky to think about." Lily stood up, and scooped the crying Holly up off from the rug where she was now reaching for the egg with her fat little fingers to see if it would fit in her mouth. Bouncing her on one hip, Lily patted her comfortingly on the back and tried to shout over the din: "Are you listening to me? I want it gone I tell you! Today! Out of my house!"

"**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"**

"I agree, and even Holly thinks it's a bad idea to keep it, so that's three against two. All the freaky things belong on Privet Drive, not here in the Marauder's Mansion." James quit laughing long enough to back her up completely. "Guys, there's no point in putting it off any longer than necessary. Lily's right, you need to take it back. Today. If Har…"

_**SLAM!**_

The sound of the door to the children's bedroom slamming behind her made the rest of the words die on his tongue. James' eyes met Lily's from across the room. They were both thinking the same thing.

When Holly started crying, Harry must have finally come out of his room to check on her, and unnoticed, overheard them talking. Therefore, he must have also seen the egg, and heard them say how it had to be returned to the shop. Since he also must have heard that his uncles had bought it for him as a gift, he would think them mean if they took it away. As Harry had received virtually no gifts while growing up with the Dursleys, he cherished every one he now received as if it were the last one he would ever get. They realized the egg would be no exception.

They both sighed. Every time they thought they were taking a step forward with their young son, something happened to set it back two.

"Not much we can do about it now." James said shrugging. "Might as well let him have it, and make the best of it."

"But James! What if it hatches into a dragon? Or- or a snake?" she asked with a shudder.

"But you like snakes," Sirius foolishly ventured to speak up. "I'm just saying… Snape was a Slytherin." He finally shut up when Lily turned her patented death glare on him.

"Remember, you are in the doghouse."

"Yes, Ma'am. Shutting up now."

Lily shut her eyes and steeled herself to say, "Okay, he can keep it ..."

"YAY!"

Then she cut off Sirius' gleeful shout, with the fateful parental decree, _**"… UNDER ONE CONDITION!"**_

Silence dropped like a rock in the living room.

Sirius bit his lip and started shifting nervously from one foot to the other at the look of ire in her eyes. Even Remus looked a bit uneasy at what the one condition might be. James raised a quizzical eyebrow at his wife but just nodded to her that he would back her up on whatever she said.

"If it ends up hatching into something_ UNSUITABLE_ as a pet– and said unsuitableness will be determined by James and I alone – then you two idiots will be the one to break Harry's heart. _NOT_ _US!_ You will make absolutely sure that _WE_, the _PARENTS, _end up totally and utterly _**blameless**_! Got it?"

"Got it!" Sirius grinned and nodded vehemently, agreeing for them both. "Come on! Let's go get him Moony! Hey Moony – it you put two idiots together do you get a genius, like two negatives making a positive, or two wrongs making a right? Or is that three rights make a left? I always get that wrong …"

"Why do I feel like I see a train wreck approaching and I'm powerless to stop it?" Remus pondered out loud, as Sirius pulled him to his feet.

"Because you're on the train Moony," James quipped back. He approved wholeheartedly of Lily's creative solution. It was the perfect way out of their parental dilemma: delegation of blame.

Harry sat on his bed, trying not to break out in sobs. His breath came shallow and ragged, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep it from quivering. He had tried so hard! He had been as helpful as he could all weekend. He thought that if he could just make it until Monday, when he would be gone most of the day to school and so out of the way and out of their thoughts, that maybe they would forget about taking him back altogether.

This was it. They wanted him out of the house. Today ...

He had heard both his mummy and daddy say it this time. Neither one of them wanted him anymore. He was just too freaky. Dudley was right. Nevertheless, he wanted them, and he wasn't going to go.

Not without a fight that is!

Jumping up Harry went over and shoved on the side of little dresser until it started to move. Then he kept shoving until it slid across the room and blocked the door. Next came Holly's crib, and then the small changing table. Tugging at his mattress, he pulled it off his bed and piled it leaning against the rest of the furniture. Rolling up the rug, he hefted it on top of the pile for added weight.

Soon everything he could possibly move was in a heap in front of the door, creating a barricade between his self and his fate. Hearing the doorknob rattle and the pounding on the door, he sat on the floor and leaned back against the stack to add his weight to the pile, and closed his eyes to keep the tears at bay.

'_Just let them try and take me back now! I'll just stay in here forever and ever.'_

James and Lily became alarmed when Sirius and Remus went to fetch Harry, and Harry could not be fetched.

After watching Remus politely knock, and then rattle the doorknob without a response from the other side, Sirius tried knocking it down by ramming it with his shoulder. When all that got him was a sore shoulder, James pulled out his wand, determined to do a little more home remodelling by blasting away the obstruction, until Lily suggested the more sensible approach of going outside and around to the window and making sure Harry was alright first.

Their initial relief that Harry was safe in his room, and had not been kidnapped by Death Eaters (James' fatherly conclusion), or laying unconscious and bleeding to death on the floor (Lily's motherly assumption), turned into concern when they saw the reason the door was stuck shut was Harry himself.

After a quick huddled meeting the alley, it was decided that Remus and Sirius would go in first and start trying to make things right, as Lily and James were both positive it was their fault, and trouble over the ill advised egg purchase, as to why their little boy was so upset that he had blocked their entrance.

"Hey kiddo! Been redecorating have you?" Sirius grinned as he slid the window open and poked his head through the open window of the ground floor room.

"Can we help?" Remus asked popping in his own head and waving at Harry.

Stepping easily over the windowsill in one fluid step (he'd had a lot of practice) Sirius looked around appraisingly, "It's nice and roomy in here now, but a tad impractical don't you think?"

Remus followed him through the window a little more awkwardly as he tried to do it backwards. "It looks a little like mine does after a full moon. Maybe if we helped you moved that rubbish pile to one side a few feet, we could use the door on the way out," he offered hopefully. "It would sure be easier on my old bones."

Harry opened his teary eyes and gave them both a death glare to rival that of his mother.

"Ooo, sorry there pup … we're not critiquing, just offering helpful suggestions. Of course, it's your room, however you want to arrange it, is okay with us, it's not like we have an Interior Decorating license ourselves." Sirius flopped down on the floor next to him companionably and patted him on the knee. When Harry didn't outright reject his overture he leaned back against the mattress, he signalled Remus to join them.

Sitting down on the other side of Harry, Remus paused for a while before he asked gently, "So … Harry, do you mind if we ask you a question?"

"What?" Harry answered so quietly that if he hadn't been sandwiched tightly between them, they wouldn't have heard him reply.

"We were just wondering … are you upset at us for some reason - perhaps because of yesterday? When you came up to visit us in the loft and we were ah … a little busy. Is that why you were trying to keep us out just now?"

"No," Harry replied simply, not trusting his voice to make it through the longer explanation of, _'I wasn't trying to keep you out. I was trying to keep me in.'_

"Do you want to tell us why then?"

Harry just shook his head. Maybe if he didn't talk to them, they'd go away.

"Brilliant Moony and you were the teacher! Even I know better than to ask closed ended questions if you want more than one word answers. Interrogation Tactics 101."

"Okay Padfoot, you try."

"Okay I will. Soooooo … kiddo … this is a fine sturdy barricade you built, quality craftsmanship. But what's it for?"

Harry just shrugged. He was not going to make it easy on them.

"Ha!" Remus snorted. "At least I got him to say something. All you got was a shrug."

"Let me try again. Let's see … Harry? C'mon … what's wrong? Tell Uncle Siri, okay?" Sirius resorted to begging and reached out to sling his arm around Harry, but this time Harry dodged and didn't answer at all. Instead, he leaned forward so Sirius' arm found nothing but air.

Wrapping his arms around his knees, Harry then tried to make himself small enough that he wasn't touching the two men on either side. If they kept being so understanding, he wasn't going to be able to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Remus and Sirius just looked at each other over his head, and responded by scooting in closer from both sides.

That was not his plan at all!

Remus cleared his throat. "Okay, how about instead of questions, we just talk to you?"

No response.

Not even a shrug.

"I'll start!" Sirius volunteered quickly. He was too excited about the egg to let Remus be the one to tell him that he got to keep it - at least for now. "Probably the best place to start is with what went wrong yesterday …"

'_I was just trying to be helpful … really, I was … I wasn't trying to be a bother … just the opposite … I thought that maybe I could clean upstairs …'_

"… you see, Moony and I were in the middle of planning a very special mission on behalf of your Mum and Dad when you came up to see us, and well … we didn't mean to snap at you but it was top secret. We all thought it would be better if you were surprised when it happened …"

'_You probably thought I'd hide in my room or something, and cause trouble if you told me when you were taking me back … Hey! You were right! I did!'_

"**You **thought Padfoot, the rest of us were for telling him right from the beginning, so he'd know what to expect."

'_I'm glad you didn't … at least I had one more night of having a family …'_

"Shush Moony! We **all** thought it was better if Harry were taken by surprise. Just like a really good prank!" Sirius grinned. "Remember what I said kiddo - about the best pranks catching people unaware? It is much more fun this way, isn't it?"

'_Not really. I don't think any of this is fun. Mr. Nathraichean is right, pranks hurt.'_

"No? Yes? Maybe?"

Still no response.

"Well, anyway … we know you overheard us talking about what's going to happen, so the now the surprise part of it is kind of shot, but it's not as bad as you think …"

"It's not?" Harry unburied his head from his knees at that comment and looked back at Sirius. He honestly didn't see how it could possibly be not as bad as he thought, he felt ill just thinking about being locked in the cupboard again.

Sirius was encouraged by the small spark of interest, and the fact that he got two words out of him and not just one, so he launched into a more enthusiastic explanation. "No, it's not really bad news at all! You see Moony and I here, we convinced your parents …"

"PADFOOT!" Remus admonished him quickly. "Remember? NO blame?"

"Er ... right ... um … well here's the deal Harry, if you want to take it that is, we're going to leave it entirely up to you if you even want to try. So no pressure, but if you do want to try, then you've got at least two weeks, give or take a day or so."

"What do I have to do?" He would to try anything in order to stay with them.

"Moony and I will give you the egg to take care of until it hatches, but you have to take really good care of it. Okay? Then when it does hatch, if it's not unsuitable any longer, then it can stay! How about that?"

"It? You mean the- the freak?" Harry asked swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand and reverting back to the old ingrained habit of referring to himself as a thing instead of a person, as his aunt and uncle had done when they were trying to make him feel like a worthless burden, so he wouldn't ask for things.

Of course, his godfathers had no way of knowing that they weren't talking about the same thing at all. Even though Remus had heard Dudley call Harry a freak once in class, it never crossed his mind that his beloved godson would actually believe it true.

"I prefer not to use the term 'freak' …" Remus started to say, he had never liked the word as it brought back bad memories from his own early childhood, and the name calling of the village children. When he was first bitten by Fenrir Greyback the werewolf, and turned into one himself, he found out first hand that names like that hurt as much as rocks when they were thrown your way.

"How about 'TFT' for short then?" Sirius teased, "you know … for 'the freaky thing'?"

"Although others don't seem to mind as much," Remus said scowling at Sirius. "Let's just refer to it as something with potential," he added putting a positive spin on it instead.

"Po-potential?"

"Yes, potential – that's when something has the possibility of developing into something better than it currently is. But Harry, you have to promise me this … if we give you this chance with the egg, if its potential doesn't develop and it's still unsuitable after two weeks, you have to promise that you won't blame your parents when it has to go back."

Sirius jumped in to reinforce that idea. "Yeah, you can't blame your parents _AT ALL._ It won't be their fault if it's too … er … 'freaky' to stay any longer. Sorry, Remus, but that really is the best word for it … rabbits laying eggs … that really is a freaky thought."

Remus just gave him a withering glance.

"Anyway Harry what we're trying to say is your parents are _totally_ blameless if it has to go back. They didn't even want to keep it in their home this long. They're afraid you'll get your heart broken if we give you this chance and then it ends up going back after all."

"That's right," Remus concluded, "If there is anyone to blame it'll be your Uncle Siri …" and after a dark look from his friend he sighed and added, "… and of course me. I guess what we're asking is that you try not to get too attached in the meantime okay? It'll just make it harder in the end, and nobody wants that. Promise?"

"And what … what if I don't promise?" Harry asked a little fearful that they would confirm what he already knew, but compelled anyway.

"Then we don't have a choice, we take it back now."

"Take it where?" As much as he didn't want to know, Harry had to ask again, just to be absolutely sure of what their intentions were. He had had too many misunderstandings since Christmas Eve because he was afraid to ask a simple question, he didn't want to make the same mistake again.

"Oh don't you worry about it. We'll just shove the TFT in a cupboard somewhere at Number 4, and let Dursley figure out what to do with it. Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh I hear he just loooooves to deal with freaky things," Sirius laughed evilly.

Harry swallowed hard. He knew it. He just knew it. He shouldn't have asked. When would he _ever_ learn?

"So do you want to try? Do you? I really, really, really want you to try." Sirius wheedled while pulling comical faces at his godson. Even Remus put on an encouraging smile to try and sway him out of his doldrums, all the while hoping nothing would go wrong.

"Do it for Uncle Siri? Pleeeeasssse? Just remember, you can't blame your parents if the TFT has to go back after the egg hatches," he put in again to ensure Harry knew the deal. He didn't want Lily any angrier towards him than what she was already.

"But I have at least two weeks, right? And if potential develops, then maybe … longer?"

"That's right - as long as it hatches. There's an excellent possibility that it will as long as you take good care of it. Of course, if it doesn't then all bets are off … OUCH!" Sirius stopped abruptly when Remus reached over and whacked him on the back of the head.

"What Padfoot here is trying to say, is that if you take real good care of it, it may hatch just fine. But if it doesn't, it won't be your fault."

"That's right - that's what I meant. It will just mean that it wasn't meant to be. But give or take a day, if all goes well, we think that it may hatch right about Easter Sunday. You have at least until then. So is it a deal?"

"Okay. I'll do it."

"And no blaming the Parents?"

"And no blaming Mummy and Daddy," Harry agreed quietly.

That wasn't a hard promise to make. He figured they were giving him another chance, and if he blew this one too, then he deserved to be locked away in the little dark cupboard. It wouldn't be anyone's fault if that happened, except that of his own.

"YAY!" Sirius cheered. "How about we help you clean up your room, and then we'll celebrate!" He jumped up and started energetically putting the pieces of the barricade back where they belonged.

"I think there still some ice cream left from last night's celebration, and I'm famished! Breakfast was at hours ago it must be nearing lunch." Remus grinned at Harry and got up to help Sirius make short work of the rest.

"No banana splits though, I don't think I want any more of the 'nanners your sister left in my beard," Sirius remarked unrolling the rug.

"Fruit is good for you. It's one of the food groups. And you should have more than ice cream for lunch," Remus remarked helping him move the mattress back into place.

"The ice cream was your idea, besides cream is dairy - and dairy's a food group. Hey! Isn't chocolate one of the food groups too? We could have hot fudge sundaes for lunch! Then after lunch, we can introduce Harry to the egg. Hey, Harry! I can't wait! You're going to love it! It's so pretty! When it hatches, I think it's going to have feathers! Really shiny ones! And green eyes just like yours!"

"Sirius!" Remus just shook his head at his overenthusiastic friend and mouthed the words, _'Remember? Not too attached?'_

"Oops, right again. I was just speculating …" Sirius bit his tongue from saying anything further as he pushed the dresser back into place and opened the door, to reveal a set of very apprehensive parents trying to pretend that they weren't attempting to listen in.

The rest of the day and evening, Sirius took advantage of every opportunity to try and get Harry as enthusiastic about the egg as he was. While Remus did his best to counterbalance Sirius' eagerness, with practical advice on how to care for an egg, so that it would hatch successfully.

Remus was both impressed and worried about how seriously Harry was taking the egg project. He had apparated himself and Sirius to the deserted Primary School where they had searched the library for a book on hatching eggs. The minute they got back Harry had seized the volume and devoured it page by page. He had taken detailed notes on everything it told him to do, and then after carefully studying what he had written down, he had asked the adults several questions to clarify points on which he was a little hazy.

If for some reason the egg didn't hatch, it definitely would not be because of the lack of, or the quality of the care, maybe because of too much care if anything. For Harry hadn't let the egg out of his sight for a split second, keeping it sheltered against his chest to keep it at the right temperature until he could build it a makeshift incubator.

Once or twice Remus could have sworn he saw him looking at the egg with the fervency of drowning man spotting a life preserver on a stormy sea.

Sirius on the other hand, wasn't concerned with Harry's reaction at all. He thought it very cute when Harry borrowed a little box then foraged in the alley for dry grass and twigs growing up through the cracks in the pavement with which to fill it. He also thought it clever when Harry scraped up dirt, mixed it with water, and made mud to glue it all together, just as a mama bird would do.

And he thought it exceedingly inventive when Harry scavenge a wad of soft lint out of the old muggle dryer that was in the utility shed behind the building, which he moistened to keep the egg from drying out, and then used it to line the nest like a warm downy blanket. Sirius thought Harry made a very fine egg papa indeed.

Lily was on Remus' side on how disquieting the whole thing was. Her little boy seemed to be taking on the task of taking care of the egg, as a life and death matter, and not just that of the embryo. Her mother's intuition was going crazy and it told her that he was destined to get his heart broken.

Harry decided he needed to make an outer covering to keep the drafts out, the humidity in and the nest box warm. Watching him open up the sofa pillow to make a cosy little cubby to slide his nest box into, James tried to suggest gently to him that perhaps they had promised too hastily, and that maybe it would be for the best for everyone if they didn't wait to take it back. As soon as the words left his mouth, James wanted to take them back, seeing Harry go into shock and start to shake uncontrollably. Dismayed, he backed off from that plan again, and Harry thankfully started to calm down.

James raked his finger through his hair distractedly and frowned at the 'I-told-you-so' look in Lily's eyes. Even though he had backed her up at the time, James hadn't really understood earlier, why it was that Lily was so adamant that the egg wasn't a good idea.

Now, seeing how attached Harry had already become to it in such a short span of time, he realized she had been right. If it did hatch into a dragon, he didn't know what he would do to make it right with his son, when he had to take it away. No matter what Padfoot and Moony promised, he knew he and Lily would turn out to be the bad guys in Harry's eyes if that happened.

To get her mind off from Harry and his egg, Lily had pushed Sirius down into a chair and was proceeding to whack off his long locks. Despite the look of alarm on Sirius' face when she took a razor to his beard, James ignored his pleas for rescue. Sirius was just lucky it was Lily with the sharp instruments in her hands and not him. If he didn't love Sirius so much, he would kill him right now, and Remus wasn't in very good stead with him either. He had counted on him to keep Sirius in check on their shopping trip. Lily was so right. He should have never had let Sirius get out of bed.

Holly just wanted everyone to pay attention to her instead of the silly egg. She was quite certain that she felt another fussy spell looming on their horizon if things didn't start going her way ... _and fast! _

After a second hushed voice huddle (this time in Remus' downstairs sound proofed flat), the adults all decided the best solution was to downplay the egg for now, in the hopes that Harry's all-consuming interest in it would wane a bit when it quit being a novelty. They all agreed that the first time they found it unprotected, they would secretly replace it with a similar sized egg of known origin, which would hatch into something less dangerous, such as a baby chick.

With that plan in mind, Remus left after dinner to find a more suitable replacement, while the rest tried to nonchalantly observe Harry with his egg and watch for an opportunity.

However, Harry didn't lose interest, quite the opposite - at the end of the night he took it to bed with him, curling up carefully around the nest in its little box snuggled into its warm sofa pillow cocoon. To be sure, not to crush it during while he slept, he had one arm protectively cradling it, which also funny enough, made it impossible for the adults to make the switch without waking him.

Now what were they going to do?

At that moment, the heart of the last few days' turmoil was too emotionally drained and tired to care in the least what they were going to do. It was all up to him now, and all he cared about in that moment was that he was still in his cosy bed, the door wasn't locked from the outside, and he couldn't hear the Dursley's anywhere. All that added up to believing he had one more chance to keep his family.

All Fool's Day was over, and Harry hadn't gotten to play a single prank on anyone, although Mrs. Figg had involved him in the prank she played on his uncle and aunt with the Tax Man, by using Mr. Prentice's fondness for him to peak his interest in the Dursley's activities. He was also the unwitting participant in pranks his godfather's played on his cousin with the charmed apple, and his teacher with the shopkeepers in Knockturn Alley. However, not even his godfathers were aware that he was also the star of the biggest and most unintentional hoax of the day - on himself with the egg.

"_It really doesn't matter," _Harry yawned sleepily and smiled softly as he cuddled up with his egg under the warm quilt.

'_All that matters is that tomorrow ... _

_I will still be home.'_

_~ fin? ~_


	6. A Patchwork Egg: part 1

**A Patchwork Egg**

Disclaimer: i don't own Harry Potter or anything else that may seem familiar. In fact, i found out i didn't even own what i thought i did.

Author: written by DracaDelirus, typed and posted by Mrs. Arabella Doreen Figg

Dedication: for my very wonderful and beautiful friends: charlie-becks, swanpride, and B00kw0rm92. Thank you so much for being my friends, and a very-very-happy-happy-you-know-what! for swanpride and B00kw0rm92 :)

Explanation: i started writing this months and months and months ago. so many months they rolled into years. i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to take so long but thing happened. i do want you to know that have been writing on it steadily ever since i started - but it is Severus's story and Severus turned out to be a very very stubborn character! it took a long time to make him do what i wanted him too. haha! he had a mind of his own :) anyway i can see now why it was that JKR's books got longer with each one she wrote. all done Severus' story is longer than all of my other stories put together and well... it got too long to upload in one big chapter like i had thought it would. so Mrs. Figg is going to post this one a little different for me than she has the other patchwork stories. since this one is an Easter story and Easter is ten days away she is going to post it in ten parts for me starting today, so by Easter you will have it all! i hope that is okay :)

_My Easter Wish_

_I wish for you the strength of will  
As the days grow longer still  
To see beyond the seasons past  
And know that your fate isn't cast_

_I wish for you health, heart, and home  
No matter how far you roam  
I wish you spirit to sustain  
I wish you solace from your pain_

_So when missed opportunities  
Blow away as fallen leaves  
Remember the spring does renew  
Cleansing the world with morning dew_

_Fresh and new the future unfolds  
Bright and green with promise holds  
No days of unrelenting sun  
The fall is gone, the winter's done_

_The spring gives all a second chance  
To laugh, and sing, and to dance  
Look about and you will agree  
It's packed with possibilities_

_But while spring reaffirms our faith  
Banishing doubts like a wraith  
That seasons change again is true  
Coming full circle back to you_

_But matter not the season's fate  
For with love it's not too late  
Learn from spring and your way is set  
To live your life without regret_

_- Happy Easter!-  
DracaDelirus_

**Patchwork Egg Patchwork EgggE krowhctaP ggE krowhctaP**

"Ugh! Gerroff me!" Harry's muffled shouts could be heard coming from underneath the hulking lump that was his cousin Dudley. His cousin had tackled him from behind the minute his daddy had dropped him off at the corner of the schoolyard that morning. He was now in the process of ransacking Harry's book bag.

"THAT'S MINE! GIVE ME BACK MY STUFF!"

"Shuddit freak - not yet! Not till I find it…" Dudley muttered, tossing things over his shoulder as he discarded them. "I know you did yours, you always do…"

"I SAID GIVE IT BACK!"

"_And I said_ _SHUDDIT!_ Who wants your stupid old stuff anyway?" Dudley snorted as he got off from his cousin and lumbered to his feet. Harry scrambled to his own feet, holding together his broken glasses while he tried to grab back his bag, but Dudley, who had a few centimetres on him, held it up just out of his reach.

"CUT IT OUT!" Harry yelled in desperation. The egg that his uncles had entrusted to his care was in there! He had to get it back before Dudley hurt it!

"You want it so bad? Then go get it yourself!" Dudley taunted, tossing the bag over Harry's head and towards the sticker weeds in the gravel at the edge of the playground.

With lightning quick reflexes, Harry dove head first for the bag and caught it in a rolling somersault, just before it hit the ground, earning himself two skinned elbows right through his long sleeved jumper, in the process. Coming to a stop, he ripped open the bag and quickly checked the egg. He was relieved it was okay - just a bit shaken up.

When he had packed his book bag that morning, he had put the egg on bottom, still wrapped in its snug little sofa pillow cocoon. While the extra cushioning had protected it from harm, he had a very strong hunch that the growing creature inside was upset from the jostling it took. He could feel a very annoyed dizzy feeling coming from it. He decided he would skip its next turning to give it time to rest up from its tumble.

The matter of the egg safety settled for now, Harry hurried to scoop up the rest of his scattered belongings and shove them back into his bag. He wasn't positive, but everything seemed to be there, except for his homework. Searching around for it frantically, he looked up to see Dudley laughing as he waved it triumphantly in the air.

"That's mine Dudley! Give it back!" Harry shouted jumping to his feet ready to fight.

"It's not anymore freak." Dudley gloated, shoving the paper down the front of his jeans, giving Harry second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts about trying to retrieve it from him.

"Dudley, I'm warning you…" Harry threatened, putting down his book bag and taking a fighting stance with his hands coming up and forming tight fists. What he needed to do was to _make _Dudley give it back, and after the day before, when he saw what a little resistance could do to further his cause, he was more willing to fight for what he wanted.

Once again, he was amazed at how quickly things turned in his favour. Just as soon as he started to stand up for himself, Dudley backed down and started to look all meek and mild. Then he realized that the reason why Dudley acted that way was behind him, not in front.

"Tut, tut, Mister…_'Krueger'_, so much aggression, and so early in the morning. How unbecoming. Whatever are those 'parents' of yours teaching you?"

Harry was still on the defensive from his Cousin's attack, on top of being emotionally overwrought from the April Fools Day weekend. Couple all that, with the enormous pressure he was under, to hatch an egg and live up to a lifetime of potential in just two short weeks, and you end up with one very tightly wound stressed out nine-year-old, ready to snap with the slightest provocation. Was it really any surprise when he didn't take too well to the teacher's snide insinuations and sarcastic remarks?

"More than you are!" Harry retorted defiantly sticking his chin out, and then reacting on pure adrenaline before he could think, he turned his fists on his teacher and punched him as hard as he could right in the solar plexus. The whistle of the wind swirling around the trio was the only sound heard on the playground, as Harry stood there with his mouth hanging open, in total shock at what he had just done.

After a slight pause, the unflappable Mr. Nathraichean coughed and said, "Do tell?" several octaves higher than normal.

Other than raising one eyebrow slightly the teacher hadn't move a muscle. Just what did the little bully think he could do against a grown wizard with such an ineffectual effort? In comparison to having a '_Crucio' _curse hit you, a child's blow was less noticeable than a hangnail. Conditioning which, being a teacher, had come in handy at times. However, the raw energy rippling off from the student in front of him was different matter entirely.

"Ha-ha! Look who's in trouble! Look who's in trouble! Harry hit the teacher! Harry hit the teacher!" Dudley started to singsong the taunt from behind the safety of Mr. Nathraichean's legs. He was no dummy. He knew what his cousin could do if you got him too mad.

"Go to class Mister Dursley," Mr. Nathraichean ordered. He also knew what an out-of-control young wizard could do when provoked beyond his limits, though he hadn't the slightest idea what could have pushed him to that point.

When he had noticed the playground altercation and approached to stop it, all the aggression seemed to be on the part of Potter, and none on the part of Dursley. He surmised that the little brat must have a hair trigger temper, and there were reports in his school file to back up that assumption, only at the moment none of that mattered and what set it off this particular time irrelevant. What was of utmost importance, was removing all the potential muggle witnesses as quickly as possible, as his small attempt at levity to lighten the situation just seemed to provoke Potter even further.

"But the bell hasn't rung yet, and my friends are waiting for me." Dudley protested. He really wasn't thinking of his friends, he just didn't want to go _now,_ not when it was just getting interesting! He thought it would be cool to see what the new teacher would look like with blue hair.

Annoyed, Mr. Nathraichean turned around and placed himself between the two boys, thereby shielding Dudley from Harry. "You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I made a suggestion, let me assure you that was not the case - to rephrase: go to class NOW Mister Dursley. And make sure that your associates accompany you." Then crossing his arms, he stared down his long bent nose at the bothersome boy, until Dudley finally got the message that his presence was neither required, nor desired.

His fun cut short, Dudley grumbled but he headed for the school building as ordered, making one final attempt to annoy his cousin by attempting to kick Harry's book bag as he passed by.

"**NO! DON'T!" **

The motion of Dudley's foot, and the imminent danger the egg was in, made Harry snap out of his state of shock. Gasping in panic, he dove for the bag again, only to flinch back with alarm and cower, when Mr. Nathraichean reached towards him at the same time in order to snag the strap, and lift it off the ground before Dudley's foot could make contact.

Harry wasn't the only one with lightning quick reflexes. Years of preventing fledgling potion brewers from blowing themselves up, had sharpened those of the teacher's to a fine honed edge.

"Calm yourself, silly boy," the teacher ordered in his low even monotone. "I have no desire to resort to physical violence, and I have no intention of harming you." When that comment didn't seem to penetrate through Harry's fog, he elaborated slowly enunciating to make his point, "I. Do. Not. Hurt. Children. No matter how much they may deserve it. I only ensured that your bag would not impede Mister Dursley's path back to class."

As proof of his intentions, Mr. Nathraichean dangled the bag in front of Harry's eyes by one long slim finger.

Harry reached up and snatched the bag away from him, clutching it to his chest with a heartbreaking sob.

"Really, Mister…_'Krueger',_ what could be so important in that bag, that you feel rudeness is justified? Perhaps I should take a look inside."

"Don't call me that!" Harry said sharply, clutching the bag even tighter to him.

"Don't call you what?"

"Krueger… don't call me 'Mister Krueger'," Harry bit back.

"I was under the impression that was your moniker of preference these days."

"They don't want…" Harry stopped. He couldn't say out loud that his parents had decided they didn't want him anymore, and that they were returning him to his aunt and uncle as damaged merchandise. It would make it too real, besides it wasn't a done deal yet. He still had two weeks to change their minds, so instead he just admitted with a catch in his voice, "Mummy told me that wasn't my name anymore."

"And did this 'mummy' offer an acceptable alternative?"

"Er… no." Come to think of it, she hadn't, and Harry hadn't thought to ask. He was too upset at the time about them not wanting to keep him that he hadn't been able to think beyond that. "It's… Harry… just Harry…," he breathed softly.

"Unacceptable. You are not a 'Rock Star' one-name wonder. Therefore, I will continue to call you Mister…_'Krueger' _and you will continue to answer to it promptly, without question, and without further violence or rudeness on your part,_" _he dictated, not bothering to conceal his revulsion to the name. He didn't know why the name 'Krueger' nagged at him so. He should be grateful, it was far better than having to say 'Potter' all day long. That would drive him utterly insane. Still… something about the name perturbed him, and the more he said it, the more perturbing it was, like nails on a chalkboard. He just couldn't put his finger on the reason why.

To the emotionally drained Harry, Mr. Nathraichean's dictatorial firm attitude was of an immense relief. Finally! Some clear-cut directions on how to act and what to do, as he had been used to growing up with the Dursley's, only without the usual punishment that followed if he failed. That is, if he were to trust what the teacher said about not intending to hit him even if he deserved it.

"O-okay… Sir." he agreed, swiping his eyes with the back of his hand and getting to his feet, all the while, still hugging the bag for all he was worth.

"Glad we have that settled," the teacher replied dryly. He was relieved to see that the wind, which had started to swirl around Harry like a small vortex, had dissipated back into a gentle breeze. He really should address the issue of the boy's dangerous violent nature, but decided that now was not the time. "Then off to class, Mister…_'Krueger'._"

"Yes Sir!" Harry turned and sprinted for the building as fast as he could go.

Mr. Nathraichean shook his head as he watched him swiftly retreat. He had told the child he was to respond to him promptly, but he had not meant that he had to break his neck in his haste to do so. "Children, they are such stupid little idiots, they take half of what you say too literally and misinterpret the rest. How any of them ever manage to live long enough to grow up without serious damage is beyond me."

As he started back toward the school building, a flash of white caught the corner of his eye. It was a scrap of paper, which the vortex wind had trapped under a sticker weed.

"And they are filthy little urchins to boot, leaving a trail of litter behind them everywhere they go." He leaned down and picked up the paper with the intention of disposing of it in the trash bin as he went by, until he saw the principal's assistant, Ms. Smythe, teetering on her impossibly tall heels, primping her hair, and applying deep red lipstick as she laid in wait for him at the side door.

"Blast the woman!" He could usually avoid her if didn't use the front entrance. He hurriedly shoved the paper in his pocket, so he could lock his wrists behind his back and stride past her with a purposeful I-am-a-very-busy-man-in-a-very-big-hurry-and-can't-be-bothered façade. It didn't work. Drat! He missed his robes. They always added that extra dramatic billowing effect that a muggle jacket simply could not imitate.

"Oh Mr. Nathraichean…" she purred and put out a hand to stop him as he passed by, her voice practically dripping with smiley faces and hearts. It was nauseating.

"Yes, Ms. Smythe, what is it?" he asked with undisguised impatience.

"I have been having the hardest time tracking you down…."

"And that is my problem, how?"

"Well, it's just that I desperately need to know…"

She cuddled up closer and ran a long painted fingernail down the front of his buttoned down shirt. As she began explaining what she 'needed' from him so desperately, Mr. Nathraichean reached out with one hand and seized a streaking missile that was attempting to return to the school playground before class, stopping it dead in its tracks.

"Not so fast, Mister…_'Krueger',_" his teacher chastised him. Then turning back to the principal's assistant, he added, "I must apologize Ms. Smythe, but whatever you 'need' will have to wait. As you can see, I have an errant student that must be attended to immediately." Turning abruptly, he hauled Harry off to the classroom by the nape of his neck, leaving Ms. Smythe standing alone in the hallway looking exceedingly annoyed.

"And just where do you think you were going?" Mr. Nathraichean asked dropping Harry into his desk chair with a thud.

"I lost something. I was just going to get it. I would have come right back." Harry defended himself.

After getting to class, he had taped his glasses back together and unpacked his bag. It was only after he put the egg into his desk that he noticed that his special picture of his mummy and daddy and baby sister wasn't there. When Uncle Remmy had helped him take it, he told him he had to be very careful not to let any muggles see it because the pictures moved, and muggles wouldn't understand. He had promised to be very careful with it, and now he had broken that promise and lost it. He should have never have taken it out from under his pillow. He was going to be in so much trouble!

Remus had tried to talk Harry into letting him take the picture for him, so Harry could be in the picture as well, but Harry wouldn't have it. He like thinking that it was himself who was behind the camera. He told Remus that way, no matter what happened, as long as he had the picture, his family would always be with him, because every time he looked at it, he would know they were waving and smiling especially at him, and not anyone else. Put like that, how could Remus possibly disagree?

"If you were so careless as to misplace an item, you will retrieve it on your own time, not mine. Do you understand Mister…_'Krueger'_?"

"Yes Sir, I understand." Harry said forlornly, slouching forward and putting his chin on his crossed arms. Without a morning recess, it would be absolutely _forever_ until lunch when he would be able to look for it. Moreover, who knew where his picture would be by then. The wind could blow it anywhere, and he couldn't go off the school grounds to look for it.

When Mr. Nathraichean requested everyone to pass in the assignment, Dudley hurriedly finished his by scribbling his name on the top of his paper. Before class started, he had recopied Harry's homework in his own hand, exceedingly glad there wasn't that much to copy, and now with a gloat over his shoulder to Harry, he passed it forward with the rest.

Across the room, his cousin stared daggers at him without even bothering to raise his head from his desktop, causing the child behind him to have to pass his own homework paper over Harry's head to the classmate in front of him.

Harry no longer cared. He had punched his teacher, lost his special picture, and now he didn't have his homework to turn in. He was in so much trouble, he might as well give up trying to do anything right today, if only he could go back to bed and start over.

"There seems to be one missing," Mr. Nathraichean announced to the class after thumbing through the stack and only counting twenty-one. "Does the tardy pupil wish to acknowledge their deficiency?"

'_Not really.' _Harry wondered dully why the teacher bothered to ask, when he already knew whose was missing. Mr. Nathraichean had been there to witness the whole humiliating tromping his cousin had given him when he had stolen his homework. Maybe he had asked just to embarrass him in front of the other kids. Yeah, that was probably it. He was paying him back for punching him. Could this day get any better?

"No? Then you may all write lines while I ascertain the delinquent party for myself."

"It's Harry," Dudley volunteered rapidly at that decree.

When twenty-one pair of eyes all turned to look accusingly at Harry, Mr. Nathraichean wondered why he had bothered to ask as well. Of course, Potter's paper was missing. Why should the high and mighty boy-who-lived-to-exasperate-him-endlessly, bother with a mere vocabulary assignment? Perhaps that was why the boy looked so fatigued this morning, he had probably been too busy saving the world again to fret over a trivial thing such as an education.

"I'm waiting…"

'_Goody for you, go ahead and wait if that's what you want to do. I won't stop you.'_ Harry thought derisively as a deep depression settled in to blanket him. He was totally exhausted and it felt so good to just put his head down and close his eyes. That way he couldn't see everyone staring at him. At this point, he failed to see how things could possibly get any worse, no matter what he did, so he might as well not do anything at all.

Dudley had moved out, and yet he was still beating him up and getting him into trouble. His parents didn't want him anymore. If he didn't develop some potential, and do it fast, they were ready to send him back. His uncles had set him up to fail in that regard, with an almost impossible task to accomplish. All the kids hated him. His teacher loathed him. Even the tiny creature in the egg was irritated at him because he hadn't protected it, as he should have. Now it was dizzy, felt ill, and it was entirely his fault.

The only one he knew of who still liked him, and who still wanted him around, was his baby sister Holly. In his present funk, he was sure that was only because she wasn't old enough yet to realize what a loser her big brother was. It sucked to be him.

Even with his eyes closed, Harry knew that all his classmates were upset with him. He could feel it, just as he could feel the egg's irritation. Although the tactic had never worked before, at least not with the Dursley's, he irrationally wondered if he ignored them long enough, if they would all just go away and leave him alone. They didn't.

Harry could sense Mr. Nathraichean looming above him, but he didn't raise his head or say a word. After a minute, he could hear Mr. Nathraichean's toe tapping impatiently.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, Harry sighed, sat up, and opened his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked dully.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry… what do you want…_**Sir**_?"

"Where is your homework Mister…_'Krueger'_?"

"You should know - I don't have it."

"Too 'busy' with more important things were we?"

Harry shrugged. It really didn't matter what he said. If the teacher knew Dudley took it, then he was obviously taking his cousin's side. Moreover, if the teacher didn't know and he tried to accuse Dudley now, they would call him a liar, as everyone always believed Dudley over him. That would just give Dudley an excuse to beat him up later for ratting on him. It was a 'lose-lose' situation as far as he could see.

"Very well, in that case you will spend morning recess in detention…" he paused for dramatic effect.

"But Mr. Nathraichean!" Dudley disrupted the impact of his pronouncement by shouting and his waving his hand wildly in the air to get attention. "Harry's already got detention!"

"Thank you for the reminder Mister Dursley, but in the future I advise you not to interrupt when someone else is talking. I also suggest that you put your hand down immediately. No one likes a tattle-tale," the teacher advised frostily.

The teacher's rebuke ticked Dudley off. He had just wanted to point out the mistake so Mr. Nathraichean could assign a different punishment for his cousin. That wasn't being a tattletale! That was being helpful! Only the teacher yelled at him just as he had earlier that morning in the schoolyard, and as his dad had even earlier while he waited for his mum to drive him to school.

Two men in black suits had rung the doorbell that morning, just as he went out the door to the car. After waiting for _hours and hours,_ for his mum to come out to drive him to school, he started honking the horn. Then, both his father and mother left the house with the men. Except that then they got into the back seat of the men's black sedan, instead their family car where he was waiting.

When he got impatient and knocked on their car window to ask – and very reasonably too, thank you very much! – if the men were going to drop him off at school, his dad had turned beet red, yelled at him, and told him to use his own two feet and to walk.

'_Walk? A whole kilometre! Was he kidding?'_

When he whinged to his mother about how unfair it was they were in men's car (after all, they got to ride, so why shouldn't he?) all that she did was burst into tears and blubber about what a kind, loving, and thoughtful boy he was. Then she told him not to worry, that he should do as his father asked this once, and that they were just going on a little holiday, and that someone would come to the school later to take care of him.

Dudley got huffy again just thinking about it. He did NOT need taking care of. He was almost ten. What did she think he was - a baby? He thought he might have rubbed a blister on his toe from all that walking. This day had not started out well for Dudley at all.

"Now that Mister Dursley has finished attempting to do my job, I will complete my thought. In that case, Mister…_'Krueger', _you will spend your morning recess in detention..." he paused again for the dramatic effect. This time he was gratified that it Dudley's whingey voice did not spoil it, not that the nuances of an eloquent presentation have much effect on nine-year-olds, but he did like to keep in practice, "…doing your homework assignment."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and smiled weakly. He could deal with that, no problem. Maybe the day wouldn't be a total loss after all. Redoing his homework during recess wouldn't be so bad, and not really even a punishment since he already had detention. In addition, if he redid the assignment during school, he wouldn't have to worry about it tonight when he needed to be giving his full attention to the egg. Also, if he were working on his assignment, maybe the teacher wouldn't stare at him the whole time, or at least maybe he would be too busy to notice it if the teacher did. That had just been just too creepy on Friday. It felt as if Mr. Nathraichean had been trying to read his mind. Of course, that was impossible.

Mr. Nathraichean narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Potter. The child acted far too accepting of his punishments, odd behaviour for a child of nine. Did Potter honestly expect him to believe they'd conditioned him to act on any orders received, without question, and with immediate compliance? This submissive act did not fool him.

After starting the children on a reading assignment to keep them quiet, Mr. Nathraichean returned to his desk to grade the papers of the rest of the class. Even though his instructions had been crystal clear, the little dunderheads hadn't managed even one acceptable vocabulary sentence. They were horrendous, simply horrendous.

_**Piers -'Traytore': my dad is the hed of the nayborehood watch commity and he said they hired a traytore to sew them all special caps with a big eye on them.**_

Mister Polkiss – If my spelling appalled me as much as yours I would surrender myself to the nearest authority as a traitor to the English language - Merely a suggestion. 'F'

_**Malcolm - 'Bonny Fire': When peeple go to the beech they lite bonny fires and toast marshmallows and eat lots and lots of clams and thats the truth.**_

Mister McGregor – I am pleased you are so familiar with the essence of beach living, as that will be your future address if you fail to acquaint yourself with a thesaurus before the end of your educational journey. That is a bona fide certainty. 'F'

_**Katie – 'Oppressor': We went to the zoo and saw the oppressors. The baby oppressor was cute and fuzzy and hung from a branch by its long tail. I want an oppressor in my Easter basket!**_

Miss Jones… ah… Miss Jones what to do with you - what to do… Mr. Nathraichean reread her sentence while deciding on a comment, and had to choke back a laugh. He had selected the list of vocabulary words carefully, for the express purpose of introducing the irritating Potter child to the difference between the dark and light side in the wizarding war, something he was positive his muggle relatives had not thought to do. Not that it was part of his assignment, but he reasoned that he should make his time worthwhile as long as he was forced to be here teaching the insufferable brat.

In this muggle setting, it was not possible to teach Potter anything magical, but under the guise of something as innocuous as vocabulary, he could at least introduce the concepts of the two sides of the wizarding world, so that when the child returned to it at the age of eleven, he would not be a total imbecile. If Albus were to turn out correct about the important of the boy's future role in the war, then perhaps then he would not be a sitting duck either - forewarned being forearmed. It was the least he could do for Lily.

The vocabulary list consisted of ten words, five for the ideals of the light side, and five to describe the world of the Death Eaters. 'Maniacal' and 'Oppressor' being the two words he chose to symbolize the tyrant Dark Lord Voldemort. Miss Jones confusing a ruthless sociopathic murdering 'oppressor' with the nocturnal western marsupial called the 'opossum', conjured up an image of the Dark Lord, wrapped in a fluffy fur coat, popping up in the girl's Easter basket with a jaunty pink bow on top of his head looking like a present from a deranged Easter Bunny.

He sincerely doubted if the Dark Lord had ever been described as 'cute and fuzzy' before. Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, he graded Katie Jones' paper. After his weekend, he needed that laugh. Call him a softy, but he couldn't resist…

Miss Jones - Be careful what you wish for, lest you get it. 'C+'

By the time that he got to the bottom of the stack, his red pen had started to run out of ink, so he tossed it on his desk in disgust and leaned back to contemplate his next move. He needed another red pen for he still had the last paper to grade - Mister Dursley's - which, if the boy actually did any of the work himself, he predicted it would take an entire ink pen to correct his alone. Not to mention that he still had Potter's to grade when the boy-who-thinks-he's-better-than-everyone-else managed to finish it.

"Hm… perhaps I need more than one red pen," he considered his options thoughtfully. He had two choices, buy new pens himself that evening and finish grading on the morrow, or request them from the school's supply and finish grading now. He had intended to pick up a few stationery items on his weekend shopping trip, but that had turned into a disaster which left him with no ready funds, not even enough for a cheap muggle fountain pen. Besides which, if he waited, it would throw off his teaching schedule for the entire week, which was not a satisfactory outcome. That only left him with the option of requesting the supplies from Ms. Smythe, the principal's assistant. Not a choice he really considered as a palatable alternative.

In his opinion, Ms. Smythe was the human embodiment of Devil's Snare. Devil's Snare being a deceptively beautiful nocturnal vine that grows profusely in the dark damp corners of your worst nightmare. The plant entices the unsuspecting weary passerby to lay down among its profusion of soft springy tendrils for an inviting rest. Except that once you make contact with its sensitive creepers, it entangles you tighter and tighter until it eventually chokes you to death. The harder its victim fights to escape, the faster it kills. Your only hope of escaping its lethal clutches - the flame of fire to drive it back. All in all, in his opinion, a fitting depiction of the principal's assistant.

Unfortunately, unlike Devil's Snare, Ms. Smythe did not seem to be frightened of fire whatsoever, as she sold scented candles on the side for extra pocket money, her desk drawers chock full of a never-ending supply of the sickly sweet odiferous items.

Drumming his fingers on his desktop, Severus decided he did not intend to allow Ms. Smythe to trap him. Therefore, he would just have to make do, or do without. What he wouldn't give right now for his quill with it's never ending ink.

If Albus had only informed him of his true intentions, before he sent him on this fool's mission, he would have come better prepared. He would have transfigured some of his more useful items into their muggle equivalents. Come to think of it, why hadn't he done that very thing when he was home last weekend? Because he had become too distracted, due to those bloody Weasley boys and their pranks. ARRRGHH! Even when they were not here, they were causing him grief.

Far too late now, he thought picking up his pen and after shaking it vigorously in order to get a little more ink out of the nib, he went back to grading with a vengeance. He had so many scathing comments to write and so little ink, such a pity.

_**Dudley – 'Traitor, Oppressor, Duplicity, Maniacal, Pretence, Admirable, Ally, Bona fide, Proper, and Family': The admirable man was a bona fide ally of the family, despite the maniacal oppressor using duplicity and pretence to mark him as a proper traitor. **_

Merlin, couldn't the little idiot follow simple instructions? His eyes narrowed as he scowled at the paper, searching for things to criticize. In addition to the splotches, erasures, and smudgy fingerprints covering the paper, Dudley had cut corners by cramming all ten of the vocabulary words into one short sentence.

Reluctantly he had to admit that he was impressed that Dudley had managed to do that, and still have it remain coherent. This would have taken more time and effort, than if he had written a separate sentence for each word, as he had intended for them to do. The additional effort alone was a red flag that this was not Dudley's own work, but it also did not seem to be that of his perfectionist mother's as she wrote much more neatly.

Mr. Nathraichean's frown deepened. It seemed more like something Potter would write about his father, or even about his convict godfather, the mutt. The carefully crafted sentence was a lot of sentimental drivel, the sort of poppycock that Black had spouted as the Aurors hauled him off to Azkaban, whinging the whole way that Pettigrew was the real culprit and not he, claiming to have been the Potter's protector, not their traitor.

Mr. Nathraichean studied Dudley's paper closely, tapping his pen idly to his temple while he thought. Even though it was in Potter's writing style, it was definitely in the Dursley boy's handwriting. If it were not that the two got along like oil and water, he might have thought Potter helped him with it.

Crazy thought… but what if the homework assignment was what had instigated the fight on the playground earlier? No, that was preposterous. Why would Potter attack his cousin, if he had willingly helped him with it? Then again, if he had done the homework, why did he not have one of his own to hand in?

Fluky as it may seem, it was what it was.

Considering the document for a grade, he supposed that, if you twisted the intent of the assignment and took his instructions far too literally, and if you ignored the penmanship, that perhaps it met with the basic requirements. Although it was messy, it was actually an improvement for Dudley. He had punctuated it more or less correctly and the words were not misspelt - something the rest of the papers lacked. Nevertheless, he would not 'twist' anything to the benefit of the nasty child who had shot him. No, Dursley would be paying for that lack of discretion for some time to come - too bad for him.

As he started to write the word 'Atrocious' across Dudley's homework paper, the pen gave up part way through the second letter, leaving a large 'A+' showing prominently on the top of the page. Blast it all! That was not the message he had intended to convey. This day was not starting out well. He would need that new pen after all. As it was Dudley's paper he was in the midst of grading when the ink ran out, he reasoned that Dudley should be the one to correct the problem. He could send him on the errand, and thus avoid having to deal with the lascivious Ms. Smythe himself.

"Mister Dursley, please go to the office…" he started to direct only to be interrupted.

"Why? What did I do? Harry was the one that didn't do the assignment." Dudley protested loudly, looking up from his book where he was doodling in the margins.

Mr. Nathraichean narrowed his eyes and said slowly, "You have already been warned against interrupting me once Mister Dursley. Do not do that again." He paused to let that sink in before continuing. "Now, please go to the office and request two red ink pens from Ms. Smythe and bring them directly back here."

"Why do I haft to?" Dudley whinged annoyingly. Even if he hadn't had a blister, he didn't want to walk down to the office. It was all the way on the other side of the school!

"Just. Do. It. Mister. Dursley."

Dudley shot the teacher a dark look but got up and started walking with an exaggerated limp toward the office. He didn't appreciate him ordering him around in front of his gang, and he certainly didn't like the smirk he saw on his cousin's face either. When he got to the office, all immediate thoughts of his own revenge plots disappeared, when he saw his Auntie Lily and Uncle James standing in front of the Principals office.

YAY! That could only mean one thing - Harry was in BIG trouble for punching the teacher earlier! Now he would have a front row seat to watch the little freak get what he deserves. Smirk at him will he!

"Ah, here comes the poor little tyke now." Principal Speer announced causing Dudley to whirl around to see if his cousin had followed him down the hall. He hadn't.

Did that mean… they were talking about _him_? _HE_ was the 'poor little tyke'? What did they mean by that? He wasn't poor at all! In fact, his parents had gone out and bought him a brand new computer and telly last weekend to celebrate moving back into their own house. They had even sprung for all the latest video games. Between the games and the pool party that he had held for all his friends (so they could welcome him back to the neighbourhood with presents), he had been so busy he hadn't remembered about his homework until that morning. Luckily, he had known how to fix that in a hurry.

"What's going on?" he asked rudely, abruptly stopping in front of his aunt and uncle. "What'cha doin' here? Is Harry in trouble again?" he tacked on still hopeful of a positive outcome. It didn't work.

"Oh Dudley, you poor boy! You must still be in shock." Lily said kneeling down and enveloping him in a big hug.

"Huh?" There was that word 'poor' again. Why did they keep using it when they were talking about him? He just didn't get it.

"May we use your office to talk to our nephew in private?" James asked, and was given a nod and a 'most certainly whatever I can do to help' from Principal Speer.

Closing the door Lily led Dudley over to a small sofa and sat him down. Giving him another hug, she told him, "Dudley, you're going to be staying with us for a few days."

"I am? Why?" he asked, still living in total oblivion.

"Dudley, this morning… you realize don't you that your parents had to go away for little while?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, but so what? They went on holiday," he shrugged. "They do that all the time."

"Holiday? I suppose that is one way to put it… but nonetheless, you can't stay by yourself while they're gone," she continued.

"Oh don't worry. Aunt Marge always comes if they don't take me with them. She'll be there when I get home from school. It's no big deal."

"Well… um… it's like this Dudley…" James sat down on the couch beside Lily, "… we checked with your Aunt Marge and she can't come to stay with you right now, a couple of her dogs are about to have litters. In addition, it would be best not disrupt your schooling, to send you there. So we would like er…" the words stuck in his throat until Lily elbowed him in the ribs to dislodge them "…for you to stay with us. So this afternoon when school is out, we need… ah… we _want _you to come back to our flat with Harry."

"But what about my telly? And my computer? You don't have _anything_ fun to play with at your house! I WANT MY STUFF! I JUST GOT IT BACK!" he started yelling.

It surprised Lily that her nephew seemed to care more about not having his toys to play with for a few days, than about his parent's welfare. He hadn't asked any questions about them, but she generously decided to attribute it to the shock of seeing them dragged off in handcuffs by the Internal Revenue Agents. She just hugged him harder and patted him on back soothingly. "There, there, Dudley, everything will be okay."

Looking up at James she asked, "Will you get his things from their house? Please?"

James first reaction when he looked at his spoiled nephew was to say 'no, you can just rough it for a few days', but at the pleading look in Lily's eyes he caved in. "Alright Dudley, make a list of what you want from your room, and I'll have it for you at the flat when you get home from school today."

The speed at which Dudley's tears dried up made him regret the promise immediately, but the boy was already making his list, and his wife was looking at him gratefully. As he watched the list grow and grow in length, he decided to take the guys with him to help. They could apparate in and out, so no one would see them raiding the house. Where they were going to put it once they got it back to the flat was another matter.

Why was it, that his in-laws problems always had a way of becoming his own? This morning he had been minding his own business, playing peek-a-boo with his baby daughter when someone knocked at the door. Child Protective Services was there to inform them that Vernon and Petunia were in custody for suspicion of tax evasion. Before James could celebrate, they also said that Petunia had listed Rose Krueger on her arrest record as next of kin. As Marge Dursley, Vernon's next of kin was not available, CPS wanted to know if they would be able to care for Dudley.

James started to tell them to find someone other fool to foist him on, but Lily cut him off and told them that of course they would take Dudley in. He knew that look in her eyes and he shuddered. The gesture of Petunia actually claiming her as her next of kin and even using her alias to help protect her identity, instead of pretending she was a total stranger, as she normally did, had given Lily renewed hope that not all was lost between her and her sister. Lily intended to take that opportunity to try and reform her little monster of a nephew!

After making sure that Dudley understood what was to happen, and that he was okay emotionally (Dudley didn't seem concerned at all once assured that his Game Boy would be waiting for him), they sent him back to class.

"Do you think he's alright James? Maybe we should take him home now. I still think he's in shock. I wonder what he is really thinking about all this…" Lily watched doubtfully as her nephew started walking away, her motherly instincts in overdrive. Maybe it was that he was shaped like an overgrown soft and squishy roly-poly teddy bear, but she had to fight an uncontrollable urge pull him back, call him 'Diddydums' and 'Dumplekins', and give him lots of hugs and kisses. Hm… maybe a healthy diet would help squelch that…

Dudley hummed happily to himself as he sauntered casually down the hallway towards class. He even forgot to limp until he got right to the door. All he thought about was what Auntie Lily might be cooking for dinner tonight. She was a much better cook than his mum was, and his mouth watered at the possibility of what might be on the menu.

James took a long look after his nephew and just snorted.

"I think he's fine Lily. Besides, we have a lot to do before the boy's get home. It'll be easier to do if he's not underfoot causing trouble." With that, James drug Lily away from the school to prepare the other members of their little family for the new addition.

The only one they forgot to tell was Harry.

"I said… _quit_ _following me!"_ Harry shouted over his shoulder at his cousin.

"I'm not," Dudley replied as he relentlessly followed Harry down the pavement.

"GO HOME DUDLEY!" Harry yelled and started to walk faster.

"I am." Dudley returned simply, and started to walk faster too.

"I mean YOUR home!" Harry shouted again and started to jog.

"So do I," Dudley replied, and huffed and puffed after him.

Harry started to sprint.

Dudley pumped his legs harder.

Harry put on a burst of speed.

Dudley crashed into the door when Harry slammed it in his face.

"James! What was that noise? Are you all right?" Lily asked concerned, rushing out from the kitchen where she had just been pulling a batch of hot biscuits from the oven.

Just then, Sirius and Remus came out of the children's bedroom, followed by James carrying a toolbox. James answered, "It wasn't me. I think the boys are home." Spotting Harry, out of breath and leaning with his back against the front door to keep it shut against the pounding by his cousin on the other side, he confirmed his guess, "Yup they are Lily, we finished up just in time," he said stowing the tool box under the kitchen sink.

"Oh Harry! You are home." Lily said smiling at the panting boy and started to move his way to give him a hug, before stopping concerned when she only counted one head. "But where's Dudley? He was supposed to come home with you."

"He was? Oh…" Harry stepped back and reluctantly opened the front door to reveal Dudley hopping on one foot and holding his bloody nose. "…sorry Dudley."

"Auntie Lily! Harry attacked me!" Dudley cried out.

"Oh you poor boy - let me see that nose! I'm sure Harry didn't mean to attack you. It must have been an accident. Here, let me fix that." Lily put an arm around his shoulders and held a tissue to his nose to stem the bleeding while she led him to a chair at the kitchen table. Then with a quick swish and flick of her wand, the blood disappeared.

"Hey cool!" Dudley wiggled his nose, all the pain gone. "Fix my toe too," he demanded thrusting out his foot with the blister. "It hurts. I had to walk a kazillion kilometres today."

Lily took off his shoe and sock and tsked tsked over the tender toe. "It's just a small blister it'll be fine in a day or two. But let's put a bandage on it anyway."

Watching the scene, Harry was envious of all the attention showered on Dudley. When he lived with his aunt, and had gotten a hurt, his Aunt Petunia would tsk tsk over him too. Only instead of looking concerned, she would just look disgusted, and then instead of kisses and bandages she would shut him up in his cupboard for complaining.

Harry ventured in a small voice, "May I have a bandage? I had to walk home too."

"Oh dear! Do you have a blister on your toe as well?" his mum turned to him concerned.

"...no Ma'am…" Harry admitted and shook his head, only to see his cousin stick out his tongue at him behind his mother's back. His toes were fine, all ten of them - it was just his skinned elbows that still smarted a bit. The scrapes had already started to scab over, and according to Aunt Petunia, that meant his hurts didn't need any treatment and would heal on their own. He wasn't supposed to whinge about small stuff like that.

"Well that's all right then," Lily smiled at him brightly and then quickly gave her attention back to her nephew, to hide her disappointment that Harry had called her ma'am again and not mummy. While she doctored the toe, Dudley smirked at his cousin. "This will help it heal a little faster," she told him, gently applying some soothing balm and a cushioning bandage. "Now how did the rest of your day go at school after we left?"

Dudley launched into a long, dramatic saga about how much the teacher hated him and picked on him constantly. Then described how he had gotten into so much trouble for forgetting to bring back a stupid pen from the office, as if he was the teacher's errand boy or something. Less than five minutes into his tale, he lost part of his audience when Remus and Sirius signalled each other and quietly slipped upstairs.

James glared after them for deserting him. He was tempted to escape too, but he had promised Lily to be welcoming to Dudley. His punishment was another ten full minutes of his nephew bellyaching about how his teacher had made him walk the horribly long journey to the office _three whole times,_ with his blister getting bigger and bigger with every step, before the teacher was finally satisfied that he had tortured him enough. The first time he forgot the errand entirely. The second, he only got one pen. It took him three tries to get it right. Of course, these minor details were missing from his story altogether. By the time he got done, you would have thought the tiny little blister covered his entire foot and leg all the way up to his knee, crippling him for life.

With his aunt and uncle as a captive audience, Dudley wailed on, and on, and on... He added an elaborate story about how the teacher had made him stay in from _both_ recesses to redo his vocabulary assignment, even though he had already worked for _hours and hours_ on it, and he was sure that he had seen an 'A+' marked on it earlier.

Lily tsked tsked sympathetically some more and brought him some hot biscuits and a cold glass of milk, hoping food may stem the tide of words, but he continued monopolizing her attention with his tale of woe, only now talking with his mouth full.

Harry watched the scene with a growing pang of jealously. Dudley had stolen his homework, his welcome home hug, his after school snack, and now his parents. They had hardly even noticed him and they believed every word of Dudley said about how Mr. Nathraichean was mean to him.

Whenever he told his parents the exact same thing, they never believed him, and he wasn't fibbing as Dudley was. They would say how he must have misunderstood the situation, but he understood just fine, and he could see exactly what was going on.

Unnoticed by his parents, he slipped into his bedroom to get the egg out of his book bag. In its little sofa-pillow cocoon it had stayed warm and cosy and out of drafts, but it needed some air circulation so he didn't dare leave it in the bag very long.

In addition to keeping the egg at a constant warm temperature, of about thirty-eight degrees Celsius, the book said to turn it three times a day to keep the embryo inside alive and healthy, and not stuck to the shell. The third key to successfully hatching it was to keep it humidified, but not so moist that mould started to grow on the shell. He had to maintain the delicate balance of environmental factors constantly.

Concerned about jostling the egg too much on his run home, and upsetting the creature inside again, he went directly to the little desk under the window, and took out the nest box and placed it under the desk lamp to keep it warm. In his mind, he could almost hear a tiny little 'thank you' of happiness coming from it. It was still alive, he was sure of it. Harry sighed with relief and then went to shove his book bag under his bed and stopped in shock.

In his haste to take care of his uncles' egg, he hadn't noticed the rest of the room when he first came in, but now he looked around utterly dismay. A set of bunk beds with garish spreads stamped with a sports motif, had replaced his nice little bed, with its bright green coverlet that matched Holly's quilt. He frowned, remembering those bunk beds with their ugly print. They were from Dudley's room on Privet Drive. Aunt Petunia had special ordered them when she redecorated Dudley's bedroom on his last birthday.

They had laughed at him when he had seen his Uncle Vernon assembling them and had asked hopefully if he got to sleep in one of them instead of the cupboard. Dudley had wanted bunk beds so he could have his friends stay over - not so that he could share his room with his freaky cousin. Then when he did have sleepovers, all it meant was that they locked Harry in his cupboard the whole time so he wouldn't spoil Dudley's party.

His heart racing at the memory, Harry looked quickly away from the bunks, only to see a more unwelcome view. There were boxes of what was obviously Dudley's toy's stacked up everywhere. Harry frowned even more. What was going on? When he had yelled at his cousin to go home Dudley had said that he was. Now, here was Dudley's bunk and all his junk. Was this Dudley's room now? His own bed was gone. Where was he supposed to sleep? Did that mean he didn't get his two weeks? With a lump in his throat, Harry decided he might as well pack again, as he didn't know if they would give him time to do it once Dudley shut up, and they remembered he was there.

Carefully, he placed the nest box back into this book bag, and slipped his favourite jumper on over his shirt. He had scoured the playground during lunchtime but hadn't been able to find his picture, so the only other thing left to pack was his stuffed stag that his daddy had given him his first night with them. He hated to leave it, but with the egg and its cocoon taking up most of the room in the bag, he couldn't fit it in any longer. Harry hugged it hard, and then with a sob, tucked it into the corner of Holly's crib. Why was it that nobody ever wanted him, but everyone wanted Dudley? Was Dudley that much better than he was? Besides, Dudley already had a family. Why did he need two?

"Hey son, mind if I talk to you for a minute?" his dad asked from the doorway behind him.

Harry kept his back turned, took his glasses off and swiped at his eyes, then shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't care one way or the other. He really needed to stop crying at the drop of a hat Harry chided himself severely. He was tougher than that. He never used to cry at all, Uncle Vernon didn't like it, and it was never a good idea to do something Uncle Vernon didn't like.

Since he'd been away from Privet Drive he'd found himself feeling very vulnerable and very unsure of his place in the world. On Privet Drive he had no doubt about his place, it was at the bottom. He guessed that now, with Dudley back, he was on the bottom again.

"Your mum and I want to apologize to you." James said coming in and closing the door behind him. "Will you come over here while I explain?" he asked sitting on the lower bunk and patting the spot beside him invitingly. James could see that Harry was upset and he felt horrible knowing they were the cause.

Harry swiped at his eyes one more time before putting his glasses back on and going to sit tentatively beside his dad on the edge of the bunk, but he wouldn't look at him. He just hugged his book bag on his lap and stared into space, expecting any minute for Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to charge in and yell at him for having the nerve to sit on Dudley's bed.

"Ah, Son… how to start? Your aunt and uncle had to go away for a little while and Dudley needed a place to stay while they're gone. His Aunt Marge couldn't come to stay with him, because the dogs at her kennel are about to have pups, and we couldn't let him stay in an empty house alone at his age… now could we?"

James paused, he and Lily had really made a mess of things this time, of all the things to forget, how did they forget to tell the most important person of all of the change? He didn't blame Harry for being upset at them - he just wished he would say something. Get mad, yell, scream, throw something, do _anything _other than sit there like a lump staring out into space… but no luck.

"So… what I'm trying to say is that it all came up very unexpectedly, and what with trying to get everything taken care of, packing up Dudley's things, then rearranging the house on such short notice, we completely forgot to tell you what was happening. We just realized that, and we wanted to apologize to you."

"It doesn't matter Sir." Harry finally said quietly, kicking at the corner of one of Dudley's boxes of toys with the toe of his trainer. His daddy did sound like he meant it, but if his mummy was sorry, then he had to wonder why she wasn't there too_. 'Because Dudley stole her, that's why,' _the little voice inside his head taunted him.

"Yes it does matter son, y_ou_ matter." James said, and slipping Harry's taped-up glasses off of him, he repaired them before putting them carefully back on his son's face, in an effort to show him in every small way he could that he did notice him, and that he did care. "We are very sorry you were surprised by this. However, your mummy and I feel it's for the best that Dudley stays here with us while the Dursley's are gone. Cheer up, okay? I'm sure it'll only be for a week or so at the most, while they get everything straightened out, and then everything will be back to normal."

'_Normal? Oh, right… Daddy said a couple of weeks. That's Easter, that's when I have to go back to Privet Drive - so all the freaks will be in one place.'_

"Until your aunt and uncle return, I'm asking you to share this room with Dudley. After that, you'll be back in your old room as if nothing had ever changed. Meanwhile, I'll install a lock so if you want a little privacy you can have it - within reason. Okay?"

Dismally, Harry nodded his head in agreement. It wasn't as if he really had much of a choice at this point. Dudley had already moved in, and he was certain that once back at Privet Drive that he would indeed have his old room back, the dark little cupboard under the stairs. It was the only place his uncle and aunt had let him have - the 'wasted space for the waste-of-space' they had said.

"So all's forgiven? How about a smile for your old dad then - just a little one? "

Harry was heartened when he heard that Dudley was only there because his parents were on holiday. If his parents wouldn't let Dudley stay in an empty house, he doubted they would send him there either, at least not yet. That meant that he still had his two weeks. There was still time to prove his self-worthy of staying. As he managed a weak smile, he vowed to hold onto that slim chance with all he had.

"That's my boy!" James was very much relieved. "Now, there is one other little thing…"

Harry held his breath.

"Your mum and I would really like it if you would stop calling us sir and ma'am. It's… ah… upsetting your mummy a little." That was a major understatement - it was upsetting Lily _a lot_. She was currently crying her eyes out in their bedroom and James was at a loss over how to stop it. His instincts told him to drag Harry out of his bedroom, sit him down man-to-man, and order him to love them again. Only Lily didn't seem to think that was a good idea. For some unfathomable reason she was afraid he'd make it worse if he said anything. She thought being patient, gentle, and understanding was the way to win Harry's heart back. James could certainly strive for the gentle and understanding qualities - but patient? James Potter? Never! So there he was… the proverbial bull in the china shop, doing exactly what his wife had told him not to do.

"Do you think you can do that for me?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak over the large lump in his throat. He thought sir and ma'am would be okay, not too attached as they had wanted, but he could call them Mr. and Mrs. Krueger if that was what they preferred, or maybe he could avoid it altogether.

"Glad we got that all cleared up." James grinned at Harry. He was exceedingly proud of his parenting skills right now. Ha! Now who was the dumb one in the family? "How about we go see if Dudley left any of those biscuits for us?" James said cheerily.

The rest of the day, Harry tended his egg, worked on his homework, and watched from the background while his parents and uncles tried to make Dudley feel at home. Which truthfully, Dudley was doing a fine job of all by himself. He really didn't need any help.

Before long, Dudley had unpacked most of his boxes and had strung his toys and possessions throughout every room of the small flat. At the dinner table, Harry's chair had been scooted to the end to make room for Dudley. Harry felt more and more claustrophobic as his 'Dud-free' zone shrunk smaller and smaller. Come bedtime it reached a crisis point for Harry.

He had been wondering all evening where he was to sleep, since his bed was gone, and imagined curling up in a corner somewhere small and out of the way. It wouldn't be too comfortable, but he was used to it, and it was preferable to the only other thing he could think of. Harry's worst fears were confirmed when they got ready for bed. His parent's expected _both_ of them to sleep in the bunk beds.

Dudley insisted on taking the top bunk, saying that since they were his bunk beds, it was his pick, and he was just being nice to let Harry even touch the bottom bunk, let alone sleep in it. He then ridiculed Harry by accused him of still wetting the bed, saying that the reason he couldn't sleep in the top one was that unless he wore nappies to bed as Holly did, that Dudley was afraid he might wake up with Harry's pee all over him.

Harry's cheeks got hot. The only time he had _ever_ had an accident like that, had been when Aunt Petunia forgot to let him out of his cupboard in the morning. When Harry started to say that he didn't wet the bed, Dudley threatened him, saying he would tell all the kids in class that he did anyway, and nobody would believe Harry over him.

Harry knew that Dudley wasn't kidding when he said he would spread rumours about him, but he bravely started to stand up for himself, and say 'no' anyway because his daddy, no… _Mister_ Krueger… had said that it was still his room for now, and that he was sharing with Dudley not the other way around. That was when Dudley pulled out all the stops and started to throw one of his more deafening tantrums, which woke up Holly and started her crying at all the negative energy penetrating her normally happy space.

The din brought the adults in to referee. Harry didn't realizing the disappointed look in their eyes were meant for his bratty cousin, not him so he gave in and let his cousin have his way. Both boys claimed 'nothing was wrong' (Dudley because he knew it was his fault, and Harry because he didn't know it wasn't his), so Lily and James tucked them both in and turned out the light, with wishes for sweet dreams.

The minute the door shut, Dudley climbed down and drug Harry out of bed by his foot.

"I decided I didn't want your cooties in my bunk beds at all," he said haughtily. "They're MINE, so MY says goes."

"I didn't want to sleep in them anyway. I don't want _your_ old cooties on _me._" Harry retorted rubbing the back of his head where he bumped it when Dudley attacked.

"Then stay out of 'em!" Dudley ordered, using Harry as a step as he clambered back up to the top bunk.

"Ooof! Don't worry I will." Harry said sticking his tongue out at Dudley's back before he gathered up his nest box. He would have taken his pillow and warm blanket, but his own were missing, along with his bed. The Kruegers probably figured he didn't deserve them any longer. Dudley's things littered every available speck of floor, including the space under Holly's crib, leaving no place to curl up. Maybe in the living room, he thought. Listening at the bedroom door, he couldn't hear anything outside.

It had been a long exhausting day and the adults decided to take turns waiting for an egg-switch opportunity. With that plan in mind, James and Lily took the first shift, and went to their room to talk where they wouldn't keep the children awake, while Remus and Sirius retired early. They would wake the pair later if they hadn't switched the egg.

Tiptoeing into the darken room, Harry tripped over more of Dudley's junk. Everywhere he turned, he could see ghostly stacks piled haphazardly here and there. Harry had never been allowed to touch any of Dudley's things so didn't dare move anything now. The only empty spot of floor he found in the entire flat was a tiny corner near his parent's bedroom door. Leaning back against the wall, he tried to get comfortable with the egg cradled in his arms. That was when he heard low murmuring coming through the wall.

"I think we made a mistake Lily."

"But it hasn't even been one day James, give him a chance. I think he's just scared about what's going to happen to him. That's why he's acting up."

"No, he's acting up because he's a spoiled rotten brat. He makes a mess everywhere he goes, and he thinks of no one but himself. I will not have you picking up after him."

"I don't mind James, and it's not as if it will be forever. He just doesn't know any better, that's not entirely his fault, with a little guidance, I'm sure he can change."

"No Lily, you are not his maid, I don't want you doing it. You have enough of a job to do with a fourteen-week-old baby, and I am certainly not going to pick up after him. It's going to take a lot longer than two weeks to him change him, if it can even be done, and you know it too."

"But he'll be a good influence on him, I know he will."

"I really don't care," his father's voice came derisively through the wall. "Even with a role model of what a good boy is like, do you really think he'll improve? He has to _want_ to change, he doesn't want to, and you can't force him. Besides, he's had that same role model for eight years and look at him. If it made a difference, don't you think it would have before now? I hate to write off a nine-year-old as a hopeless case, but in his instance, I'm willing."

"James! You can't mean that! He's just a little boy. Surely you think he has some potential?"

"I don't know… I mean sure… everyone has a little potential, even him. But it's what you do with it - that counts, and he doesn't seem to care about developing his. I'm sorry Lily. I guess I'm just tired and frustrated. It's been a long day and this wasn't what I expected to do with my day off when I got up this morning."

"I know, my prince, you had an entire day of peek-a-boo and naps planned. It was very gallant of you to make room on your busy social calendar."

"My prince? What happened to stag-boy dropout? Wait a minute… are you trying to butter me up so I won't kick him out in the morning?"

"Of course I am… is it working?"

"Almost, I think maybe if you threw in a foot massage. Like Harry said: 'My feet hurt, and I had to walk home too'."

"Oh poor boy, let's see what Mummy can do to fix that."

"Ooo… that feels gooood… if you keep that up, we might have a new baby boy after all."

Hearing Mr. and Mrs. Krueger start to giggle, Harry decided to move again. It was hard enough knowing that they were making plans to get rid of him and to replace him with a new son, he didn't want to hear them ridicule him while they did it.

Taking a deep breath, Harry went back to his bedroom. His uncles had closed their doors tight, so besides the bathtub, there really wasn't anywhere else to go. In the tiny bit of light that made it past the stacks of Dudley's boxes, he could see Dudley had flipped over on the top bunk and was now on his stomach, with one hand and one foot dangling over the side. He was dead to the world with a string of thick drool dangling perilously from his open mouth into the void below. At least he wasn't snoring, but there was absolutely no way that Harry was going anywhere near that bottom bunk again.

Setting his internal clock to wake him before anyone stirred in the morning, he turned to the other side of the room and set the nest box in the crib next to Holly. Then using one of the unpacked boxes to boost him up he crawled into the crib himself. It was a tight fit, and as he got in it creaked a bit under his added weight, but as he was small and light it held. With no room to stretch out, he curled around his sleeping sister and the egg, her tiny fingers glomming comfortingly onto him in her sleep. At least Holly wanted him.

An hour later, when James and Lily went in to check on the children they were surprised to find Harry sleeping with Holly instead of in the bottom bunk. Instead of waking him and putting him back in bed, they took copious pictures with Remus' camera as their two sleeping children made such an angelic pair, cuddled up together their arms entwined.

Lily just wished she had some of Harry when he was a baby and from the years that she had missed, but Petunia claimed that they had all burned with her house. She doubted that, as she hadn't seen even one with Harry in it among the family photos when they were in the Dursley's living room on Christmas Eve, but she was willing to give her sister the benefit of the doubt. Either way they would have been lost too. So much lost, she thought sadly, but brightened a bit as she fingered a photo of the giggling Holly. Holly looked close enough to how Harry had at that age, to be his twin.

She smiled at the photos as she carefully tucked them in the album that James had given her to celebrate their new family. He said it was to replace the one that had burned with their cottage in Godric's Hollow, James had said they would fill it with new wonderful memories, and she couldn't think of anything more wonderful and precious to her than her children were. Someday she would share the darling photos with some lucky young lady, to show her what a special boy she had found in her son.

By the time the sun came up Tuesday morning, the adults were dead on their feet, as they had taken turns throughout the night, watching for Harry to move in his sleep and relinquish the egg. He hadn't, despite several rounds of future blackmail photo ops (his godfathers finding their pose just too cute to pass up as well). Harry guarded the egg in his sleep with the same ferociousness as he did at breakfast the next day, when they suggested he leave the egg home while he went to school, arguing that it would 'distract' him from his schoolwork. Harry knew he would be more distracted if it were out of his sight, his only real concern being that no one found out where he had slept.

Even Sirius had finally started to see about what the others were concerned, when he tried to get Harry's attention during the meal by making paper airplanes and flying them around and around his head. Harry just pretended not to notice, not even when he made one dive-bomb into his porridge. He just plucked it out and continued eating. No matter how much they tried to sabotage his efforts, nothing, nothing at all could persuade him from shirking his duty.

He shouldn't have been surprised that they would try. No one had ever made things easy for him before. Whenever his aunt or uncle had given him a chore like scrubbing the kitchen floor, Dudley was always there to track mud across it just as he would finish up. It was part of life. Why should his uncles be any different? They had told him that the egg's fate would determine that of his own, and he intended to do everything within his power to make sure it hatched. He was determined to prove himself and prayed that diligence in the assignment would reward his efforts, and a positive outcome would make him more suitable in the eyes of the Kruegers.

Harry thought again about it being an odd way to determine if he fit into their family. He really thought that doing chores without complaining, and pretending he didn't exist the rest of the time, was the proper way to show that. At least that was what Aunt Petunia had always told him. Then again, Aunt Petunia never thought he had measured up even when he did his best, nor did she ever give him the responsibility to hatch an egg for her.

He shrugged to himself. It must be one of those weird differences they kept alluding to between the muggle world and the wizarding world. One of those that they said he 'wouldn't understand yet' and that nobody would take the time to explain to him. Only in reality, it didn't matter how odd he thought it, if it was what the Kruegers wanted him to do, to prove that he was worthy to be a member of their family, than he would do it.

The egg in its nest went carefully into his book bag and off to school with him, with the intention of nestling it safely away and out of sight in his desk the minute he got there. So far, he had been discrete enough while nurturing the egg, that Dudley hadn't taken an interest in it, and that was how he intended to keep it. Dudley tended to break anything he laid his hands on, and all Harry could think of was the humpty-dumpty rhyme whenever he thought of Dudley touching the egg.

_Dudley-wudley sat on a wall  
Dudley-wudley dropped the egg like a ball  
all the king's horses and all the king's men  
couldn't put the egg back together again_

He was NOT going to let anything like that happen to his uncles' egg!

"I am waiting, Mister…_'Krueger'_."

Harry slammed down the lid of his desk and look up with a start. Mr. Nathraichean stood over him holding out his hand for something and the whole class was staring at them. At first, he thought his teacher wanted to take his precious egg away, but then he remembered…

"Oh no! My homework!"

"Oh yes - your homework. I will take it now, if you would be so kind to produce it."

Harry rifled frantically through his now almost empty book bag in a panic. It wasn't there. Shocked, he thought back… he had taken almost everything out of it that morning before breakfast, when he had packed the nest box in the bottom. He was sure he had put his homework back! Replaying the scene in his mind, he focused on Uncle Siri who had been joking around at the table, trying to distract him from his egg-tending job.

Uncle Siri and the paper airplanes! When Harry had ignored him, he remembered Uncle Remmy saying something about him winning the bet and it was time for Uncle Siri to eat his words. Then there was the sound of crumpling paper and munching, and then Uncle Siri remarking something about that it didn't taste half-bad with syrup on it and then Uncle Remmy laughing. Uncle Siri must have eaten his homework!

"Well? I am waiting." Mr. Nathraichean said tapping his toe impatiently while the class giggled at Harry's predicament.

"Er… I don't have it Sir." Harry admitted with his cheeks hot with shame.

"May I inquire as to why not?"

"My… er… I…" he just couldn't say that his dog ate his homework! That was so lame! His teacher wouldn't believe it anyway without explaining Uncle Siri, but Uncle Siri was a big secret, even bigger than his being an animagus wizard was. They had even told the Dursley's that he and Uncle Remmy were both half brothers of Mr. Krueger, to explain away the different last names. Harry didn't want to, but he fibbed, "I-I- I forgot to do it."

"I see." Mr. Nathraichean said in his slow silky voice, his eyebrows arching, detecting the traces of the lie in his words. "Did you feel yourself exempt from such a lowly task?"

'_Of course he did, the insolent brat, why did I even bother asking?'_

"No Sir… I just… got busy."

"What about you Mister Dursley? Were you too 'busy' as well? As I recall at the end of our extra session yesterday you had yet to turn in a neatly written paper."

"Oh no, Mr. Nathraichean, don't you remember what the principal said? He said I was emotionally distraught and allowances had to be made." Dudley tried not to sound too smug. He knew when to play the 'poor-little-tyke' card to his advantage.

"Oh no, Mister Dursley, don't _you_ remember?" the teacher returned smoothly, "I did indeed make an 'allowance'. I allowed you the evening to complete the assignment satisfactorily instead of remaining after school as originally planned."

Dudley scowled fiercely. The teacher had trumped his 'poor-little-tyke' card. That was NOT fair. It should have been good for at least a couple of days!

"No comment? Very well, then you may remain in the classroom during recess again today along with Mister…_'Krueger', _until which time you have fulfilled the requirements of the assignment. You may consider your 'special' treatment at an end."

"But I…!"

"Tut, tut, Mister Dursley, you had your opportunity for comment. That opportunity has now expired. As you can see by the posted schedule, it is now time to brush up on your mathematics while I review your classmate's vocabulary work. There will be a quiz when I am finished." Mr. Nathraichean swiftly moved to the front and wrote several maths problems on the board, to the groans of all the little boys and girls.

"Any more grumbling commentary, and there will be story problems as well."

All the little boys and girls quickly got out their tablets and started industriously scribbling down the problems, except for Dudley and Harry. Dudley sat there, with arms crossed, scowling in protest of the unfairness of it all. On the other side of the room, Harry was so stunned that the teacher did not pander to his cousin's tantrums that he sat there in amazement, beaming at Mr. Nathraichean's back for a full two and three quarters minutes, before he scrambled to start on the problems too.

Watching them get to work, Mr. Nathraichean had no sense of satisfaction. He was not at all pleased with the results of his morning thus far, as he had not intended to keep the Dursley boy in at recess. However, the boy challenged his authority. He could not allow that to go unchecked. He had intended to start teaching Potter today about the wizarding world with the use of the vocabulary words, but with his muggle cousin in attendance once again, that would have to wait until afternoon. Another morning wasted.

Mr. Nathraichean got out his red pen with a sigh. It was already low on ink. These muggle pens were so inferior. Maybe he should have had Mister Dursley retrieve an entire dozen from the office. Of course that would have taken the boy several more days at the rate he retrieved the first two. No matter, it was his time to waste…

"Mister Dursley as you do not feel the need to brush up on your eight times tables you may go to the office and request several more red pens. I believe we shall double the order this time - bring back four. That should suffice for the remainder of the week."

"But I have a blister! I have a bandage and everything!" Dudley wailed in objection, even though upon inspection that morning he hadn't seen anything left of it.

"I am so happy for you. Since your medical malady has been remedied, you may bring me six pens, just for good measure," he waved him out of the room dismissively, while he got to work grading. Ah, it was much easier to concentrate with Dursley out of the room. Taking up his pen, he read the first one…

_**Tasha **__***** **__**Amireaball***The Amireaball sailed the boat all the way around the world from London to Surrey and back again**__** *****_

Miss Robertson – While your jaunty stars are an admirable attempt to distract this reader from your neglectful use of the dictionary and atlas, your effort failed miserably. *** D-***

_**Chloe - 'Mightacall': i think boys are**__**…**_

Intriguing introduction, but what Chloe Miller thought of boys would have to wait because just as he started to read her paper, the fire alarm started blaring in the hallway and all the children started screaming and jumping out of their seats.

"**STOP!" **Mr. Nathraichean's authoritarian voice and rock calm demeanour made the children freeze in place. "**Sit. Down. Now."**

He stood in front of them with arms crossed looking exceptionally annoyed, one of only two expressions (other than totally unreadable) that they had ever seen on his face, the other look with the weird half grimace half smile was even scarier. They all hoped it was not them with whom he was annoyed, but at the same time, they all knew it was. Therefore, despite the alarms blaring in the hallway and the sounds of running feet urging them panic, the children slowly sunk back into their chairs. They were confused, never before has a teacher not had them evacuate when the alarm sounded.

"But it's the fire alarm!" Malcolm yelled out, "We have to evacuate or we'll be burned!"

"I don't want to be burned! I don't want to be burned! I just had my hair permed for Easter!" Katie wailed from her seat, her even curlier-than-before-if-such-a-thing-was-humanly-possible twin ponytails bouncing all on their own reflecting her anxiety.

"Please calm yourself Miss Jones. I am certain that not a single curl on your head is in danger of becoming a victim to arson." The children started protesting as through the classroom windows, they could see the rest of the schools' classes gathering outside on the playground, so he raised his hand to silence them once again.

"However, as it is our duty, we shall take part in this exercise of poor time management. Only we shall do it with order and decorum. There shall be no running and there shall be no screaming. You will act as if you are eleven instead of nine and march out in pairs like ladies and gentlemen. Now make me proud. Get up, form a line," he ordered.

As he shepherded them into a semblance of order, boy-boy and girl-girl and one of each left over to head the line, the children started to get anxious and squirmy again.

"But what if the school is really on fire?"

"The school is not on fire."

"But the alarm is going off!"

"How many times has the alarm sounded this year?" the teacher queried calmly.

"Ninety-nine thousand!" Piers supplied.

"No, fifty gazillion!" Dennis countered.

"And how many times did it actually signal that a raging inferno was in progress?"

"… um… (lots of thinking and counting going on in twenty-one little heads) … eighty?" someone ventured to guess.

"Try again."

"… well last time in February there was a lot of smoke and Dudley had to save us all with the fire extinguisher!" Gordon claimed.

"And what was the cause of all this smoke?" Mr. Nathraichean asked, as if he couldn't already guess that the cause then, was the same as now. By applying simple deductive reasoning, he could ascertain the alarms origin with an acceptable level of certainty. He had sent Mister Dursley to the office on an errand. Mister Dursley was not happy about that. Mister Dursley tends towards tantrums when unhappy. Mister Dursley's path would have taken him directly past the fire alarm switch. Mister Dursley looked as though he and temptation were on a first name basis. Mister Dursley was the likely cause he theorized, as he efficiently paired the children off and counted heads - twenty.

"Harry was!" twenty little voices all sang out in unison, to contradict his theory.

"Well as Mister…_'Krueger'_ is here," he looked around swiftly to verify that fact as he was short one head in the line, and saw Harry still at his desk, furtively stuffing the contents into his book bag. "…and the fire, _if _there actually is one, is not. You may all feel reassured that he was not the cause this time."

Harry looked up from his packing incredulous. Was the teacher actually _not _blaming him for something?

"I believe we are ready. Girls - hold hands please. Boys – put your hands in your pockets. Mister Polkiss and Miss Miller, you may now lead us to safety."

"But what about the fire? I'm afraid!" Chloe's face looked as if she were about to bawl.

"If we indeed encounter any danger en route, I shall throw myself bodily onto the flames to ensure your safe passage to the playground," he returned dryly. "Satisfied? Good. Remember, act eleven. Once you reach the assembly area, you will stay in formation until I lead you back in. This is not recess, the first one out of line will be writing lines the rest of the day. Now - heads up, mouths shut, and march!"

Under that threat, the children started marching through the classroom door in a nice and neat formation, but Mr. Nathraichean noticed he was still minus one child, one child who did not have a partner because Mister Dursley was out causing mischief. That child was Potter.

"This will not be a long journey Mister…_'Krueger'_," he said impatiently to Harry who still sat as his desk clutching his book bag on his lap. "There is no need for luggage. Leave it here."

This brought a lot of giggles to the other boys and girls, who now had something else to focus on besides their impending death. Harry getting in trouble was always entertaining.

"Then I stay too. I won't leave without it." Harry said determinedly, clutching it even tighter, in case the teacher tried to pry it out of his hands. In the distance, the wail of the fire trucks was getting closer all the time

"So be it." Mr. Nathraichean hauled Harry out of his chair by his shirt collar and pulled him, book bag and all, into formation at the end of the line. Then taking a firm grasp of his free hand, he forced him to march out with him.

On the way to the playground, the small hand he held started tugging at his. "Sir, would you really throw yourself onto a fire to save us?" Harry asked in awe.

"I am not in the habit of making vows I do not intend to fulfil."

"So you would save … even me?"

"Even you Pot- Mister…_'Krueger'_. As I told you yesterday - I do not hurt children."

Harry looked up into his teacher's obsidian eyes and this time he started to believe him.

"However, I am not so certain about your book bag," he remarked wryly not expecting a response and was surprised by what he heard when he got one anyway.

"But it's _a lot _more important that I am." Harry said matter-of-factly, with a sad look on his face that attested to the fact that he actually believed what he said.

Only Mr. Nathraichean had no opportunity to delve into it as when they reached the assembly area Ms. Smythe came running up and threw her arms around his neck sobbing, making all his children giggle. This day was becoming very entertaining indeed!

"_Teacher's got a girlfriend! Teacher's got a girlfriend!" _the evil little munchkins chanted.

"I was so worried!" Virgie Smythe blathered hysterically, "I called Fire! Fire! Everybody out! When you didn't come, I thought you were trapped! I thought you would be killed!"

"Unhand me Ms. Smythe," Mr. Nathraichean chastised stiffly and pushed her off him, and none too gently at that. "There was no danger that I could ascertain, so we simply organized ourselves for a controlled evacuation drill."

"But there was! There was a fire in the boy's lavatory right next to the office! I saw the flames myself! That student you sent to the office, he said his cousin is a pyromaniac and he started it! Ooo! That's him! That's the culprit!" Virgie screamed and took a step back when she saw whose hand Mr. Nathraichean held instead of hers.

"Calm yourself, you are upsetting the children, and we must set a good example. All is well in hand as the fire department is leaving. In addition, I can assure you that Mister… _'Krueger' _did not start a fire. He was under my strict supervision the entire time."

"He didn't? Are you sure?" Virgie's eyes narrowed as she stared spitefully at the boy by his side who was trying to hide behind him, unable to escape his grasp. "Principal Speer says he's going to be sent to St. Brutus' this time for sure. You may not know this, since you're new here, but this isn't the first time he's tried to burn down the school. After the last time, Principal Speer talked to his uncle, Vernon Dursley, and they were in agreement that he's a delinquent and if anything happened again they would send him away where they will make sure he isn't a danger to anyone."

Mr. Nathraichean could feel Harry's hand in his, going tense with fear. Remembering Harry's reaction on the playground the day before when he got upset, he decided he should squelch it before his magic it got out of hand in front of the entire student body.

"You may remind Principal Speer that this 'Uncle Vernon' may no longer have a say in the matter of the child's disposition. As I said before…"

All the little boys and girls, who had been avidly listening to the exchange with intense interest, gasped loudly in unison at this. Everyone knew that Mr. Nathraichean _hated_ having to repeat himself. They wondered what kind of homework he would assign her!

Their teacher merely quirked an eyebrow to silence them and continued, "Mister … _'Krueger' _was not the responsible party, and I will see to it that it continues to stay that way. He will not be _sent_ anywhere," he said flatly with no room for argument.

Much to Mr. Nathraichean's relief, Harry's hand untensed slightly at that declaration.

"I'll tell him," Virgie said doubtfully. "But he isn't going to be happy about it, he wants…"

"Yes, well we can't always have what we want, can we?" he interrupted her, not wishing to discuss the issue further. "Now speaking of Dursleys, I am missing one. May I assume that since he was at the epicentre of the fire when it broke out, that you saw to his safety?" he asked by way of pointing out the truth to her, only to have it ignored.

"Oh Dudley! That poor boy! He's been through so much," Virgie was thankful for another topic to extend the conversation after he so abruptly ended the last one. Determined to make a good 'future-wife-and-mother-material' impression on the only unmarried man on staff she started to prattle. "I got him a cola to settle his nerves then had him lay down on the backseat of my car. Much more comfortable than forcing him to stand on the playground injured as he was. Maybe I should ask the paramedics to check him over…"

"Injured?"

"Why yes! A horribly infected and swollen blister, he can't even put his weight on it because of the intense pain. I thought you knew, he said he got it doing errands for you yesterday, and there you were making him do more today, when you could have come yourself. If I didn't know better, I would think that you're avoiding me. I want…"

"Yes, well as I said before…"

Another collective gasp rose from the spectators. They hadn't had this much entertainment since Ms. Smythe cornered their former temporary teacher Mr. Wolfe. He hid from her in the craft closet to come out later covered from head to toe in glitter.

They wondered what Mr. Nathraichean would look like covered in glitter, especially as he detested it so. Mr. Wolfe's hair and skin sparkled from it for a whole week. With Mr. Nathraichean, they wondered if it would even have the nerve to stick.

"… we can't always have what we want. They have cleared the building, so now you really must excuse me, I should see to my class and to Mister Dursley." After marching the children back inside (much to his satisfaction his was the only class who did it without further running amok), he put them to work on a story problem and then went in search of the missing Dudley. He found him lounging in Ms. Smythe's car, drinking cola, discarded candy wrappers scattered on the seat around him, and running down the car battery by playing the radio.

Disgusted, Mr. Nathraichean was very tempted to reach for his wand and send a worm hex of his own Dudley's way, but he stoically resisted the temptation and instead reached through the open car window, and flicked off the loud music. "Mister Dursley, I sent you on an errand to the office, not to cause wide spread panic so that you could lounge about gorging yourself on sweets. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"It wasn't me! Honest! It was Har…" Dudley sat up fast causing him to swallow cola down his windpipe and sputter when his teacher suddenly appeared in the car window.

"Before you try placing the blame on someone else, please know that I have recovered evidence to the contrary." Mr. Nathraichean held out a book of burned matches that he had picked up on his way to the parking lot. The book had the logo for Grunnings Drills on the cover, the company where Dudley's father worked.

"Oh those… um… Harry borrowed those," Dudley said thinking quickly.

"So your testimony is that you _'loaned'_ the matches to Mister…_'Krueger'_. He snuck out of class, started a fire on the opposite side of the building from the classroom, gave you the burned matches back which you dropped here, then he snuck back into class before the alarm went off. All without me noticing that anything was awry?"

"Um yeah, I'm – we are supposed to share. We… um… share everything you know."

"Then you will share detention for afternoon recess."

"But that's not fair! I already have detention during the morning one!" Dudley wailed as the teacher pulled him out of the car by the scruff of his neck and moved him bodily back to class. Mr. Nathraichean dropped Dudley into his chair with orders to stay there, and announced to the rest of the class that due to the unscheduled fire drill, he was cancelling morning recess. When they erupted with groans, he took great satisfaction in telling them that they could thank their classmate Mister Dursley for it.

Harry was totally floored. Mr. Nathraichean had said he would put himself at risk to save him, just as Uncle Siri had said he would do. And then he stood up to Principal Speer and Ms. Smythe on his behalf so he wouldn't be sent away, just as Uncle Remmy had the last time Dudley had set a fire and blamed him. He could hardly believe his ears. Was his teacher was really telling the_ whole_ class that it wasn't his fault - that it was Dudley's instead? That had_ never_ happened before.

Settling down at his desk to finish grading the papers, Mr. Nathraichean looked out over the class to verify the students were all occupied studying and was surprised when he caught a look of undiluted adoration directed his way. That had _never_ happened before, and it was vaguely disquieting to see. Moreover, it was from one diminutive James Potter look-alike no less. Maybe a nice round of penning scathing sarcastic comments would settle the queasy feeling that the look put in the pit of his stomach.

_**Chloe - 'Mightacall': i think boys are STUPID! sometimes they mightacall and sometimes they mightnotacall because boys are STUPID! and i am NOT inviting them to anymore of my parties and THAT is THAT!. **_

Miss Miller – Perhaps someday, when you are less maniacal on the topic, you may develop a more forgiving perspective. In the meantime, as you will not be frittering away your time partying, you might consider using the time to study a dictionary. 'D'

_**Gordon - 'Pretence': I like to pretence I am a superhero and can fly by jumping off the shed roof but it is two low to fly so good so next time I am going two jump out my bedroom window!**_

Mister Graham – Unfortunately, that explains a great deal more than I care to know. As I would prefer to maintain the pretence that you possess a modicum of intelligence, I will not ask for a play-by-play of your next attempt. 'C-'

He sighed, put down his red pen, and rubbed his eyes. Mister Graham had spelled the vocabulary word correctly. Although his use or rather misuse of it, as well as his common sense, left much to be desired. He could only hope for the child's sake that his bedroom was on the ground floor.

The rest of Mr. Nathraichean's day fared no better, and his headache, started by the fire alarm, just got worse as the day wore on. He was definitely going to demand hazard pay from the Headmaster, maybe double hazard pay… no triple - definitely triple. By the time he drilled the children on their times tables, gave them a pop geography quiz, policed the tables during lunchtime, and put up with Mister Dursley's infantile attitude during his afternoon detention (during which time the blond boy still failed to turn in a neatly written homework paper), he was more than ready to call it a day.

As part of his assignment, Albus Dumbledore had requested weekly owls updating him on the status of Harry's security. He had sent his last owl off the Friday before informing the headmaster of his intended weekend holiday, and he received a reply back over his coffee this morning. Of course, a simple 'self-destruct-this-message-if-it-falls-into-the-wrong-hands' spell would not suffice for the old man. Keeping up his inane cloak and dagger game, the Headmaster insisted all messages written in code.

_**Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: **_

_**As per the research study you assigned me to undertake - during my long awaited and much deserved sabbatical (do you not understand the concept of 'free time'?) – this week I visited the muggle zoo (the Primary school), and started my study of the indigenous wildlife specimen (Harry Potter) you suggested for the focus of the study. As expected, all of my theoretical assumptions remain true (I told you this was a total waste of my time). **_

_**However, as per your ancillary theory (which I disagree with whole-heartedly), I have watched for signs of the trolls (the Ministry's Aurors) and ogres (Voldemort's Death Eaters) that you felt this species would attract (because he is the bloody boy-who-lived-to-get-into-trouble), but have to observe any in the area (Little Whinging). **_

_**Therefore, with your permission, I am contemplating cutting my sabbatical short as I am feeling under the weather (I demand you get me out of here before I go insane!). **_

_**Respectfully – Severus Snape, Potions Master**_

At first Dumbledore was satisfied with the fact Harry Potter was under his direct supervision from nine to three five days a week. Except that after a week, he decided that wasn't enough. Instead of allowing him to return to Hogwarts, he requested Severus to check up on his golden boy nightly, in _addition_ to his daily babysitting duties!

_**Dear Severus, **_

_**I do so regret to hear you are not feeling your best, I always find a nice cup of hot tea with lemon to be just the ticket. As to your study, I must disagree - you are off to a most promising start. Given the right factors, your study portends to be most beneficial to the wizarding world. But alas, I do see a flaw in your original premise. Is not your study subject a transplanted species rather than an indigenous one? As such, perhaps your study should include observing the subject outside of the zoo, as its natural habitat may be more telling.**_

_**In addition, if I might be so bold to suggest, if your daytime survey of its common predators is not bearing fruit, you might extend your research into its nocturnal habits as well. In the meantime, keep up the good work **_

_**Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, HSW&W  
**_

Blast the old man! He was NOT listening, and he had the nerve to sign with smiley face!

_**Headmaster Dumbledore, **_

_**This is the end of the second week of my study, and I have ascertained with all certainty that contrary to the popular belief held by the wizarding world, the assumed innate intelligence of the target subject is actually quite negligible. This data supports my own theorem, that when this species mates indiscriminately, the paternal genetics of inferior specimens can, and will, supersede the far more superior maternal genes. **_

_**Proven correct once again, further research on my part seems pointless. In regards to your nocturnal predator theory, that too has proved unproductive other than it did point out a possible location of the rare Nox Noctis Vigeo Idiotus (night blooming nitwit) outside of my current study area. I believe my time would be more productive if I looked into it further, before it relocates out of self-preservation. **_

– _**Regards, Severus Snape**_

The following week Dumbledore decided the dratted child needed checking on in early morning, in addition to his daytime babysitting, and nightly patrol. What Albus hoped to gain, other than an extremely cranky Potions Master, he failed to comprehend, and Albus failed to explain…strike that – Albus _avoided_ explaining once again.

_**My dear Severus, **_

_**The tea and lemon must have helped tremendously as I am delighted with your progress thus far. Moreover, I am relieved that my concerns over the usual predators, making this species extinct before its natural time, have thus far proved ungrounded. Studies of this type can be most fascinating, and a great learning experience. I am, admittedly, quite jealous of your opportunity. **_

_**But I digress - I wish to be on the safe side and account for all possible variables in regards to the trolls and ogres, and therefore would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to include an accounting of the subjects early morning habits, in addition to the studies that you currently have underway.**_

_**In regards to your concerns about the Nox Noctis Vigeo Idiotus relocating - you have nothing to fear in that respect, at least for the time being. **_

_**Most cordially, Albus Dumbledore **_

Why that infuriating - - - ! Now he wanted him to do WHAT? Did he not think he had a life of his own? Well, he didn't… nevertheless, that was_ not_ the point. Not the point at all!

_**Headmaster, **_

_**While I value your guidance in this study, and therefore deferred to your wishes, all I have to comment at the end of this third week is that your predilection for understated overkill has reached an all time high. To date I have found no value in this research. However, if forced to give it further thought, I am sure I will be able to think of at least a few potions that could benefit from using the subjects' components as diced ingredients. **_

–_**S. Snape**_

A week after that Dumbledore claimed he had a reliable report of suspicious activity at the site, from a squib he had assigned to watch the Dursley's former residence. Then he used that information to pressure him into escorting the boy home each day from school. He wondered how the boy managed to survive before gaining a personal bodyguard.

_**Severus my dear friend, **_

_**The other day I was chatting with a mutual acquaintance of ours, and I filled her in on the wonderful progress that you have been making on your research, as she is quite keen on the subject. When I mentioned where your study was taking place, she became highly distraught, as she frequents that area regularly, and is certain that there are recent reports of uncontrolled ogre activity. I do hope you are taking all precautions to ensure your study subject remains secure from their unpredictable attacks when migrating daily between the zoo and its natural habitat. **_

_**Very truly yours, Albus **_

_**By the way - if you chance upon one of those charming Muggle Corner Stores, would you mind popping in and picking up some Sherbet Lemons?**_

"Ha!" he gloated. Dumbledore finally resorted to pulling out the 'friend card'. Then giving it a second thought, he frowned at the message. If this kept up, he might next insist he move into a flat in the fleabag building where the Kruegers and Dursleys all lived. He would definitely put his foot down at that one. Best nip that idea in the bud right now!

_**Dumbledore – **_

_**As this is now the end of the fourth week, of what was to be a one-day research project, I respectfully request a replacement immediately. Perhaps our mutual acquaintance would suffice nicely as she is already familiar with the study. Until then, I reluctantly abide by your wishes as you are funding the project, which by the way, is over budget. **_

_**- Snape**_

_**Note: Regretfully they discontinued manufacturing Sherbet Lemons.**_

That had been two weeks ago, now he reread Dumbledore's latest reply, one more time, in hopes that somehow the message had spontaneously mutated into something he desired to read. However, the Headmaster still did not intend to send a replacement babysitter to relieve him. Was karma punishing him for the petty lie of saying he had checked on the Sherbet Lemons?

_**Severus my son, **_

_**I am most regretful, but I simply do not have a soul available at this time to take over your research project. Your fellow Professors are otherwise occupied what with end of term fast approaching and unavailable to train our mutual acquaintance in academia research. However, I have complete faith in you to do the responsible thing and to see it through to its rightful conclusion. As with all things that truly matter, good things will come to those who have the faith to find them for themselves. **_

_**Speaking of your fellow Professors, a funny thing happened the other day in your lab between the Weasley twins, the substitute Potions Master, and Percy Weasley's pet rat. I got quite a chuckle out it and it reminds me now of the old saying which is quite apropos to your current research – A watched potion never explodes. Perhaps you should apply this axiom and eliminate the distance from whence you are making your observations. Closer scrutiny may improve the long-term results.**_

_**Indebted to you as always, -Albus**_

**ARGH!** He knew it! He just knew it! Blast the old man and his sweet tooth. Maybe he should stop at a corner market. He passed by one every day on the route to seeing the boy safely home. That he could do he supposed grudgingly, to get the fates back on his side if nothing else. However, the old man had finally gone completely barmy to go as far as to ask him to move into the same building with Potter and his adopted family!

_**D – Absolutely **__**Not**__**. – S **_


	7. A Patchwork Egg: part 2

"Hey Lily! Guess what we sold at the store this afternoon! You'll never believe it." James called out gaily as he got home from work that evening.

"What?"

"Remember all those crates of ancient petrified Sherbet Lemons that I told you about? The ones I found cleaning out the basement storeroom?"

"Yes I remember. You said they would probably only sell those if Dumbledore walked in, because they had to be as old as he is."

"Well, we sold them today, every last one of them."

"You mean Dumbledore _was_ here? You saw him?" Lily gasped.

"Nah, I didn't see the bloke who bought them. I was too busy getting the crates out of the basement for him, but Dave, the manager, said he was about my age, and Gina, the cashier, said he had a real sour attitude on him. They said he complained the entire time about how long it took me to fill the order. Ha-ha! They told me he said I was obviously an 'incompetent idiot' if I couldn't move a box faster than that, and suggested they fire me. Guess he bought them all because he needed something to sweeten him up a bit. Just can't imagine anyone else as addicted to those things as the Headmaster."

"Still, it was a bit snarky of him to try and get my man fired. If he had of, I would've had to have hunted him down and hexed him."

James laughed as he swept Lily into his arms and carried her over to the comfy chair, kicking one of Dudley's toys off the seat and settling down in a cosy hug to discuss the day. "So, it's pretty quiet. Where are the kids?"

"Which ones?"

"All of them."

"Remus and Sirius are upstairs taking care of replacement egg, and pouring over old copies of the Daily Prophet. They're trying to get a fix on Sev, and are hoping to find a clue to his whereabouts. Holly's sleeping, and the boy's are doing homework."

"So we're alone?" James asked nuzzling her neck.

"Until dinner, but now really isn't the time for that, the kids could walk in any minute."

"Which ones?"

"All of them." she laughed and pushed him away playfully.

"Okay, fine," he pouted. "So how was your day?"

"Okay…"

"You don't sound so sure about that." James frowned, wrinkling his brow at her. "Has Dudley been acting up?"

"No, it's not that. In fact, Dudley has been quite a good boy this afternoon. You would be proud of him."

"He was? I would? How so?" James asked incredulously. Looking around, the flat still looked like a disaster area with piles of Dudley's things everywhere. "He hasn't picked up his mess yet."

"I know." Lily admitted, averting her eyes guiltily, "I haven't exactly talked to him about that yet. I thought I'd give him another day to finish settling in and see if he did it on his own first."

"Fat chance of that," James snorted. "If the place is still a mess tomorrow morning, I am going to have a talk with him myself, and this time you won't be able to talk me out of it. You do realize don't you that you're not doing him, or us, any favours, by not telling him our expectations while he's here. You'll end up spoiling him even more."

"Alright James," Lily sighed. "You're right of course."

"So if he didn't pick up his messes, what did he do that was so good?"

"He didn't make any more." Lily said with a tiny smile playing around her lips.

"I am definitely talking with him in the morning. I'll give him till then." James said sternly.

"Yes, my love," she agreed with a kiss.

"So if it's not Dudley, what's got you down?"

"Oh it's nothing big, other than worrying about Petunia, and I know we've done all we can for now for her and Vernon since they refused our help, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"It's Harry," she said with a sigh and put her head on his shoulder.

"What's the matter with him? Is he sick?" James asked with concern.

"James, sometimes you are so clueless."

"Well I have a good excuse for it, I didn't graduate - remember? Even perfect strangers notice that I am an incompetent idiot," he said smugly.

"Nice try, kid if you want, but I really am worried. Something is wrong with him, and I don't know what it is."

"Why do you think something is wrong? He isn't still calling you ma'am is he?" James asked a bit worriedly remembering his talk with his son the day before, and hoping he hadn't made things worse.

"Noooooo… not _exactly_."

"What do you mean by 'not exactly'?"

"I know it's silly. It's just that he seems so distant. Like – like he doesn't want me to be his mummy," she finally blurted out tearfully.

"Of course he does Lily, I know he loves you. Why do you think otherwise?"

"It's a lot of little things. Like when the boys got home - I hugged him and he didn't hug me back. Then when I got them out an afterschool treat, Harry just excused himself to go his room. I felt as if he really didn't want to stay in the same room as me."

"Maybe he just wasn't hungry." James suggested.

"But I made his favourite! Treacle tarts - and Dudley ate them both! In addition, while Harry isn't calling me ma'am anymore, I haven't heard him call me mummy either. I just don't think he loves me."

"It can't be that, I _know_ he loves you. Maybe he's just shy in front of Dudley. Whenever the Dursley's were here before I noticed he sort of withdrew and got real quiet."

"I thought about that, so while Dudley snacked I went into Harry's room, gave him another hug, and asked him if he wanted to cuddle up and read a story with me."

"And?"

"And all I got was a very stiff and polite, 'thank you but I need to take care of the egg'. I am really starting to hate that egg." Lily glowered.

"Maybe it's something going on at school that's bothering him. Maybe it has nothing to do with us."

"I thought about that too, so after they got started on their homework I walked down to the school to talk with his teacher."

"And how'd that go?"

"He wasn't there. I missed him again. I don't understand it. I was always there for at least an hour after last bell, grading, or planning lessons, or sweeping up glitter. But Mr. Nathraichean seems to disappear, 'poof!'" she said snapping her fingers, "the second the children leave. If I didn't know any better I would think he apparated away."

"He's a wizard?" James straightened up, alarmed. Could he be a Death Eater?

"No, I was just kidding - he's not."

"Are you sure?" James questioned her, still tense at the possible threat.

"Of course, I mean - think about it. What would be the odds of the same muggle primary class having three temporary teachers in a row who were all magical? I was the first, so I understand how it happened. Remus next, and that was just a lucky coincidence - but a third? That would have to be downright manipulation. No, he's a muggle, just a very quick one who's not doing his job."

"Didn't Harry say that this Mr. Nathraichean locked up all the craft supplies, and already had his lessons planned out through the end of term?"

"Yes - but when I taught the class…"

"But you're not the teacher anymore, he is, and he has a different style. Let the man be."

"Gladly! And once I've managed to corner him, I will."

"That's my little Tiger-Lily, sic 'em." James laughed finally relaxing again. "But in the meantime, what do we do about Harry? Don't you think we ought to just sit him down and talk it out?" he asked hopefully. He always liked the direct approach, without all that psychology hoopla mixed in, and was a little disturbed that his talk with Harry the night before hadn't had the desired effect. Maybe if Lily agreed to try it again, she wouldn't find out he went ahead on his own the first time against her wishes.

"I still don't that's the best idea, at least not just yet. I want him to trust us, and to come to us on his own when something is bothering him. I don't want to force his feelings."

"But it _might _help…" James pushed again, "we won't really know unless we try. Yes?"

Lily sighed, slightly exasperated with his persistence. "No James. Yesterday while you were at work and the boys were in school I talked to Remus about it. He has always been interested in the field of mind healing, so he did some research into it for us. We should just be patient until there is an opportunity to bring it up naturally, or it resolves itself. In the meantime, we should keep showing him, in every way we can, that we love him. Remus says Harry acts completely different when we aren't around, and thinks that he is still insecure about us having left him for so long at my sister's."

"But we explained that!" James said vehemently. "You mean he hasn't forgiven us yet?"

"Yes - I mean no - I mean even if he has, it doesn't mean that he trusts us not to do it again. Maybe subconsciously he's distancing himself so he won't get hurt if we do."

"What do we have to do to convince him? Chain our ankles together until he gets the idea we're not going anywhere without him?"

"That's certainly a thought, but why don't we just keep that option open for later if nothing else works?" she teased. "Right now it's time for dinner. I'll get the children if you want to tell Remus and Sirius to come down."

Lily jumped about a foot when James immediately yelled loudly in her ear for the two upstairs to come down pronto. "There. Done. Your turn," he grinned at her as two sets of feet could be heard hitting the floor above them.

"Real smooth, maybe that customer wasn't so far off the mark," she said getting up.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You _are_ an incompetent idiot," she replied flippantly over her shoulder as she opened the boy's bedroom door. "But you're _my_ idiot, and I still get to hex anybody else who calls you one."

Sweeping into the boy's room, she scooped the still sleepy Holly out of her crib while glancing about appraisingly. James really wasn't an incompetent idiot, and when it came to her nephew, she had to admit he was dead on right. Dudley wasn't going to clean up without prompting. If possible, Dudley had created even more havoc in this tiny space that he had in the rest of the flat. It was almost impossible to see the floor for his piles of toys and discarded boxes. Harry sat at the small desk industriously writing on the only corner of the surface not occupied by Dudley's telly. Dudley himself lolled on the bunk listening to a radio through earphones while he played on his Game Boy. He didn't even notice she was in the room until she shut the blaring telly off.

"Hey! I'm watching that you fr…" When Dudley saw his aunt had shut it off, and not Harry, the angry words died on his lips.

"What were you about to say Dudley?" she asked him.

"Um I was watching it… but you can turn it off if you'd rather?"

"I'm surprised you had it on anyway. I thought you were both doing homework."

"I didn't have any Auntie Lily." Dudley replied sweetly, "I did all mine during school."

"Oh? I thought Mr. Nathraichean always gave homework assignments."

"That's just for the slooooow kids who can't keep up." Dudley said looking meaningfully at his cousin, who sat at the desk with his head down and his cheeks getting red.

"That's enough of that Dudley. Dinner's ready." Lily didn't have to tell him twice. For such a pudgy boy, when motivated, he could move very quickly. As soon as he was out of the room, she turned to her son and as she was still holding Holly, squeezed his shoulders in a one armed hug. When he flinched slightly at her touch, her heart broke a little more and she was at a loss for words - so she said the only thing that came to mind, "How's the egg doing?"

"Very nicely I think. It's time to turn her again." he replied seriously, pulling the egg out of the cocoon, and gently turning it before putting it back.

"Her?"

"Yes, it's a girl." Harry nodded.

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Sometimes I can feel what she is thinking, and-and I think she can feel me think too. We talk," he said softly.

"You do? Well, that is very… special." Lily fearfully wondered just what this 'special' egg hatchling would think when it ended up back in the shop in Knockturn Alley instead of in her son's bedroom. Were dragons like homing pigeons that could find their way back? She sincerely hoped not, but the sooner they made the switch the better.

"Are you done with your homework?" When Harry simply nodded, she held out her hand for him to take. "Let go have dinner then, the others are waiting." Harry went with her, but not without his nest box and egg, tucked into the crook of his arm.

Throughout the rest of the evening, until it was time to send the boys to bed, Lily watched for an opportunity to have Remus switch the egg with the one he had stashed upstairs. Only the opportunity never came. For that matter, neither did the word 'mummy' out of Harry's mouth, he was silent as the egg he protected. It wasn't until they went in to tuck the boy's into bed, that they even got another word out of him.

"Er… couldn't I just stay up?" Harry asked hopefully, reluctant to get into the bunk bed.

"No, it's a school night, time for you to hop into bed." James said pointing. "Now hop."

Harry knew there wasn't room for argument, and silently slid under the covers as ordered, but with plans to curl up with Holly the minute they left. Lily crushed that idea a moment later when she kissed his forehead, tucked him in saying, "I know you love your sister, but she needs her rest too, so why don't you sleep in your own bed tonight?"

Seeing Harry cringe away from her, when Dudley rolled over in the bunk above them and dangled his head upside down over the edge to grin evilly at her son, Lily regretted her words immediately. However, the damage had already been done.

"So where'd he sleep last night? In the crib? Like an iddy-biddy baby? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Seeing Harry's cheeks flush, confirming his guess, he started laughing uncontrollably. His Uncle James order for him to 'quit teasing Harry' just made it worse. By the time Dudley could laugh no more, because his sides hurt so much they felt like one more guffaw would split him open, Harry wanted to just crawl into a hole somewhere and never come out. Lily brushing the hair from his face, and softly saying 'sorry baby' to Harry, certainly didn't help, as it just set off another peal of laughter from above.

After James and Lily finished doing all the damage they could possibly do to his fragile ego for one night, they finally left, leaving behind apologetic looks and wishes for sweet dreams. Only sweet dreams didn't come to Harry. He lay wide awake, fear slowly growing in the pit of his stomach as he tensely waited for Dudley to climb down and attack again, but his cousin's chuckling slowly gave way to even breathing.

Every time Dudley turned over in his sleep, Harry could feel the distance between his face and the bunk above shrinking. The springs protesting at his cousin's excessive weight, stressing and straining with each move, and caving down from above farther and farther until Harry felt as if the bottom of the bunk above him was mere millimetres above his face, and all the oxygen in the room was being squeezed away.

The piles of empty boxes and stacks of toys blocked out the light from the window, and cast a gloomy oppressive darkness throughout the room. He couldn't even feel the air move. Harry was positive the window had been open when he climbed into bed, but now not even a whisper of a cool breeze found his face.

Dudley's breathing turned into loud snoring, filling every available nook and cranny in the small room. It drove everything out of Harry's mind except for dismal memories of his uncle locking him in the hot stuffy dark cupboard and then forgetting him. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and rapid. The roar in his ears made him unable to think as he tried to get out of the bunk, but in his earlier restlessness, the blanket had twisted and tangled about his legs. He panicked at feeling trapped, until he felt a warm wetness spreading over his pyjama bottoms and smelled the unmistakable pungent odour. NO! Clawing at the spread, he pushed it off and rolled out of bed and onto the floor on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath.

After he got out of bed the feeling of confinement lessened and he slowly calmed enough to move. Getting shakily to his feet, he felt around for the nest box and was relieved that in his panic, he hadn't squished it. Once assured that the precious egg was in one piece, he stripped the sheets off the bed then felt for the box under the bunk that held his clothes. All his were now stuffed into one of the left over packing boxes because Dudley's had crowded his clothes into all of Harry's dresser drawers, leaving his cousin's things discarded in an untidy pile on the floor.

Feeling for the denim fabric of his jeans, he pulled them and a t-shirt out, and then he gathered up the wet linens and the nest box, and stumbled out of the bedroom and to the bathroom to clean up. He changed into his dry clothes in the dark, so that he wouldn't wake his parents in the next room. After rinsing out his pyjamas and sheets, he looked around for a place to hide them while they dried. He couldn't let anyone find out that he had gotten so scared that he had wet the bed, especially not Dudley, not after the teasing he had gotten from him earlier. 'Out-of-sight out-of-mind' always worked at the Dursleys when it came to him. It should work for a couple of wet sheets.

Not finding a suitable hiding place in the bathroom, he went to the kitchen and tried a few spots, but there was really no suitable hiding places there either. Back in the living room, he finally settled on stuffing it all under the big comfy chair. It had an upholstered skirt around the bottom so he was sure no one would see them. Relieved he had taken care of that, Harry took the opportunity of being awake to sprinkle the egg with a little warm water from the tap in the kitchen, and then went back into the living room. Once there he wasn't quite sure what to do, or where to go next. They told him he couldn't sleep with Holly, and even if the mattress on the bunk wasn't damp, he just couldn't go back there either, the very thought made him start shaking again

He longed to go in and wake the Kruegers and feel their comforting arms around him, and hear them tell him that everything would be okay, but he didn't think he would be welcome there. It would only show them he had gone against their wishes, and became attached. Besides, his aunt and uncle had always discouraged him from seeking comfort if he had bad dreams, telling him that he deserved them for all the bad things he had done during the day. The Kruegers probably felt the same way.

As much as he longed to, he didn't dare knock on their door. He also couldn't go back to his room, and if he slept in the tub, they would probably make fun of him just as they had when they caught him sleeping in the crib. Everywhere else he turned, he tripped over another pile of Dudley's stuff. His cousin's things even filled the seats of large comfy armchair and the wooden rocker.

Without anywhere to curl up, Harry started pacing around the room, making a sinuous trail around the piles of toys. It was on his third trip, he as he started to pass the circular staircase, that he noticed that both the trapdoor in the floor and the one in the ceiling were still open. Uncle Remmy always closed and bolted his trapdoor in the floor at night whether he felt poorly or not. He said if he got into the habit, he would be less likely to forget when it really mattered. However, if they were both open it meant his godfathers were awake and were probably upstairs in the loft.

Harry hesitated before starting up the stairs. But he hoped that maybe if he asked real nice, and promised not to get in the way, that Uncle Siri would let him sleep upstairs on the comfy couch. Unsure of his reception, Harry timidly poked his head up through the door, and not seeing the two men in the darkened flat, he called out softly, "Hallo? Is anybody awake?"

"Hiya Harry! We're out here. Come on out and join us." Sirius called out invitingly, while Remus quickly stashed the replacement egg they had been babysitting, in the pocket of his robes for safekeeping.

Finally feeling a little welcome somewhere, Harry followed the voice to the window and saw his godfathers lying on their backs on the low-pitched part of the roof. "What are you doing?" he asked with curiosity.

"Stargazing."

"Stargazing?"

"Yeah, come on out and join us, just be careful, the first step is a doozy."

Harry stepped carefully over the sill and cautiously scooted over the roof on his bum to where they were, and lay down in the spot between them where Sirius had indicated, carefully placing the nest box on his stomach.

"Still taking good care of the egg I see." Remus observed, mentally comparing Harry's makeshift incubator, to the one he and Sirius had rigged up for the second egg. Harry's was by far superior, a plushy little palace of poof.

"Yes Sir, very good care."

"See? I told you so." Sirius said proudly, thinking of how happy Harry would be when the Occamcy hatched. He was ninety-nine percent certain he could convince James and Lily to let him keep it. After all, the way she was growing Holly wouldn't stay meal size for much longer. By the time the Occamcy grew large enough to be that hungry, she would be far too big to swallow. Besides, Curatoran had a 'No Return' policy.

"Which star are you looking at Sir?" Harry asked politely as he looked deep into the heavens. There were billions of stars already twinkling so he knew they weren't looking for the wishing star, it would be impossible to find it now. What else could be so interesting as to lure his godfathers out on the roof?

"All of them. I'm especially fond of that one right there." Remus replied pointing towards a very bright star in the constellation Canis Major.

"Ah Moony! You do care." Sirius grinned from ear to ear.

"Isn't that a little vain Padfoot? I meant its companion star, the little one right next to it."

"Ah yes, the 'pup' star. Well I have to admit I'm a bit overly fond of that one too."

They both started laughing at the confused look on Harry's face. Since the day that his parents had proudly announced his impending birth, the Marauders christened Harry with many affectionate nicknames. To Padfoot he was the 'little pup', to Moony, the 'little cub', to Prongs he was 'Prongslet', to Lily he was her 'Princelet', her 'little love', and her 'sweetie', just to mention a few. Harry didn't realize it, but he had more loving nicknames, than what his aunt had for his cousin Dudley.

"Don't worry kiddo. You'll learn all about the stars and the heavens when you go to Hogwarts and take Astronomy." Remus assured him.

"I will Sir?"

"Sure, and lots more." Sirius continued for him, "Such as, did you know that some of the holidays such as Christmas and Easter are tied to the heavens, in more ways than one?"

"They are Sir?"

"Yeah, do you remember the Christmas story of the three wise men? Well they were following the Eastern Star. The movements of the heavens also calculate the date Easter falls on, which is the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Vernal Equinox. Just like clockwork, every year. I could set my watch by it - if I still had one that is, the Dementors took it away. What do you suppose they wanted it for anyway? It isn't as if they have any pressing social engagements to keep track of. I miss that watch..."

Remus knew his friend would start plunging back into his bottomless pit of self-pity and remorse if he didn't change the subject, so he ignored his rambling question and pointed out the moon to Harry instead.

"See the moon Harry? It's almost full again, only about a week away now. Since the first day of spring was a little over a week ago, as Padfoot said, that means that Easter will be here soon. Sometimes I wish there was a spell that would freeze the moon in its orbit, so it would never become full again." Remus said wistfully, dropping into his own bottomless pit of self-pity and remorse, knowing that once again he would to transform into a vile werewolf against his will.

"Me too Sir," Harry agreed solemnly. He felt the moon had managed to tie his destiny to it almost as much as Uncle Remmy said it had his fate.

"Me three," chipped in Sirius trying to lighten the mood back up before Remus became too maudlin. "Of course, the worldwide chaos, havoc, panic, and total devastation that it would cause might get us into trouble with Lily, so we better not. She'd know right away it was us who did it."

"True." Remus agreed, snapping out of his funk and laughing at the thought, causing a ripple effect of laughter to the other two. As he observed that Harry was starting to relax a little in their presence, he decided it was the perfect time to broach a delicate subject.

"You know Harry… right before you came up, Padfoot and I talked, and we were both wondering something… what's with all this 'sir' business? Prongs told us he talked with you, and you were going to cut that out. Did we do something to offend you?" he asked trying his best to keep the hurt tone out of his voice.

"Yeah Harry, what's up with that?" Sirius asked rolling over onto his left side and propping his head up on a bent elbow for a better vantage point with which to peer at his godson intently. "I thought we were all friends again. If you're still mad at us, then just be mad at me. Okay? Moony is a little, um… _sensitive_. It's almost his time of the month."

Remus rolled over onto his right side, propped his head up mirroring Sirius' pose and huffed "I am _NOT _being sensitive!"

Sirius winked at Harry conspiratorially then raised his eyebrows at Remus. "Oh really?"

"Ah… sorry." Remus had to laugh at himself when he realized how contradictory his words were to his indignant tone.

Harry started to giggle at the antics of his bickering godfathers, only to have them both turn on him instead, and start tickling him unmercifully.

"Stop! Stop!"

"Not until you quit being mad at us," they snickered and tickled some more.

"I'm not mad," he admitted softly between giggles. He felt a lot of things but mad was not among them. He felt sad, terrified, ashamed, desperate, disappointed and jealous. The last two surging to the surface because, just like the Kruegers, this friendly pair wanted to be addressed more formally by him as well, even though they let Dudley call them 'uncle'. Just something else Dudley stole from him, along with everything else.

"Okay then, no more 'sir'. It makes us feel old." Remus declared stopping the attack.

"Yes Sir… I mean no Sir…I mean… okay Mr. Wolfe I won't call you sir, Sir."

Remus rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh at his response, which earned a loud guffaw from Sirius. They exchanged looks, agreeing that they had one very stubborn godson on their hands. Since that tactic had got them nowhere fast, Remus regretted not following his own advice that he gave to Lily, and decided to drop it for now. Only Sirius was like a dog with a bone, he did not intend to let go.

"So Harry, what are you doing up? We thought you went to bed hours ago."

"I did, Mr. Black."

"Um… so we're back to being not terribly communicative are we? Okay… let's play Twenty Questions then. You'd be a natural."

"What's that?" Harry's curiosity was piqued at the unaccustomed praise.

"In exchange for us risking your parent's wrath, for not sending you straight back to bed and making sure you stay there, you get to ponder a topic of our choice. What, might you ask, do we get out of this?" Sirius paused, but heard nothing but breathing.

"Ahem! I _said_… what, might you ask, do we get out of this?"

"Harry that's your cue, you're supposed to ask him what's in it for him." Remus nudged.

"Oh! Right! Sorry… er… Mr. Black Sir. What's in it for you?"

"Glad you asked my little pup. We are curious as to why you are not fast asleep, so we get twenty questions to find out. You have to answer truthfully, but you can do it with one word answers like yes, no, or maybe. If we guess why, before the twenty questions run out then we win and you have to do something we ask you to do, without arguing."

"Okay." Harry agreed after giving it a little thought. As long as he didn't have to say much, he felt his secret was safe. After all, his godfathers seemed clueless most of the time, and he really did NOT want to go back to that bunk bed.

"Not so fast Harry, you should ask him what you get if you win." Remus advised.

"You mean I get something besides not having to go back to bed?"

"Sure you do!" Sirius promised magnanimously, "Let's think about this… I know! Let's say that if you win, then you get to call us 'uncles' again. Would you like that?"

"Yes Mr. Black Sir, very much," Harry said softly.

Sirius shot a triumphant look over Harry's head to Remus, which told him their 'prize' if Harry lost, would be the exact same thing. One way or the other, Harry would go back to calling them 'uncles' before they let him off the roof. If talking and psychology wouldn't work with him, then they would resort to doing it the marauder way… trickery.

"Okay, first question… animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

"What?"

"Animal, vegetable, or mineral…" Sirius repeated, "Is whatever you are thinking of something animal - like the egg, something vegetable - like that mouldy thing the Dursley's left growing in the back of my icebox, or something mineral - like… er, like… er… mineral? Moony why is mineral part of it?"

"It just is."

"'kay, so something mineral like… Oh, I know! Something mineral like Dudley's brain, he has the I.Q. of a rock. So which is it - animal, vegetable, or mineral?"

"Mineral, definitely mineral," Harry said with a small giggle.

"Now we're getting somewhere. It's your cousin, isn't it? Ha! Got it in one!"

"No." Harry replied truthfully, his own imagination had caused his terror, not Dudley.

"Er, Padfoot, not to put a damper on your reasoning but I think Dudley would be properly categorized as 'Animal'. 'Vegetable' is plant life and 'Mineral' is everything else."

"Same diff when it comes to Dudley," Sirius said nonchalantly, "He'd fit into all three categories if you really think about it. Okay next question: Is it bigger than a breadbox?"

"What?"

"Always with the sass back," he teased. "But okay I will rephrase. Is whatever you're thinking of, something that can be squished into a breadbox, or is it too big?"

"Um… yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, it's bigger than a breadbox." Harry giggled again. He had taken the bread out and tried to shove in the wet sheets but they hadn't fit, so he knew that answer was right.

"Wait a minute! I think I just wasted that question. Of course, Dudley is bigger than a breadbox - so that one doesn't count."

"Yes it does." Harry giggled some more. This was fun!

"Besides which, he already said it wasn't Dudley." Remus added.

"Fine be that way. Let's see then, what to ask next… got it! Is it something I can sit on?"

"Yes," more giggles. If he sat in the comfy chair, he would be sitting over where the sheets were hiding so that was true. This was easy, he was sure to win!

"Okay… well I guess I could sit on Dudley. Don't know why I'd want to, but still - if he keeps acting up I might, so he still fits the clues. Are you sure it isn't Dudley?"

"Yes." Harry giggled at the thought of Uncle Siri sitting on Dudley, just as Dudley liked to sit on him.

"My turn, you're wasting questions. You're already up to six." Remus said.

"I am not! I've only asked three. Mineral, bigger than a breadbox, and can be sat on."

"You forget… you also asked twice if it was Dudley, and repeated the breadbox question after he already answered you. Right, kiddo?"

"Yes, and that makes seven." When Remus slapped his own forehead at his mistake, Harry giggled harder, making the egg resting on his stomach vibrate happily in response, bringing on even more giggles. This was so easy, Harry almost felt sorry for his uncles.

"Ha! I'm not the only one." Sirius gloated. "But you go right ahead and ask the next one if you think you're so smart."

"Okay. Hm… let's see…" While Sirius had been asking his questions, Remus had been studying Harry carefully. With his heightened senses, he had noticed his tousled hair and the beads of sweat, shiny in the moonlight, still evident on his brow even though the evening air was cool. He also spotted the tracks of tears on his still reddened cheeks. Then there were the clothes. Instead of pyjamas, Harry wore his school clothes, and his t-shirt was on inside out and backwards, as if he had dressed hurriedly in the dark. However, the most telling of all was the damp spot in the middle of his chest where he had obviously been clutching something wet to it. Put it all together and something was wrong with the picture, and he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what it might be. If he was right, he didn't want to embarrass him, so he finally decided to play the game out and asked it in a round-a-bout way, "Is it something that I can wear?"

"Noooooo..." Harry replied after due consideration. Uncle Remmy was much too big to fit into his pyjamas, and unless he pretended to be a ghost, he didn't think he would ever wear the sheets.

"Okay... let me put it this way Harry… Is it something_ you_ would wear?"

"Er… maybe?" While he certainly wouldn't wear the pyjamas while they were still sopping wet, he would if they were…

"Maybe, if they were dry?" Remus asked kindly, and at the baffled look on Sirius' face, he mouthed a few words at him until the understanding dawned in his eyes too.

'_How does he know?' _Harry grabbed his egg and started to hop up, panicked that they would discover his secret, when four hands pressed him back down.

"No reason to run off, were all men here. Sometimes things happen. It's nothing to be ashamed of." Remus reassured him.

"But if Dudley ever finds out…" Harry started anxiously before the words caught in his throat and he had to choke back a sob.

"No worries my little friend, if that happens, I'll just borrow Moony's wand and obliviate him." Sirius offered cheerfully.

"You… you will?" Harry wasn't sure what that was, but he liked the sound of it quite a bit.

"NO, he will NOT." Remus said sternly. "There is no reason for him to anyway. I can hear Dudley snoring from here, and I doubt if anything is going to wake him tonight, we kind of ran him ragged. We can help you clean up and he'll be none the wiser."

"You're taking all the fun out of it Moony."

"Shut it Padfoot - we have work to do."

"Shutting up, getting to work." Sirius affirmed as he stood up, scooped up Harry and his egg, and then stepped back over the windowsill, with Remus following. Neither man noticing the dark shadow appearing out of nowhere in the alley below, as they made plans in the darkened room on how to proceed successfully without waking anyone up.

Before heading downstairs, Sirius turned back towards the window, thinking to retrieve the partially full butterbeer bottle he had left on the roof, when the window all of a sudden slammed down with a crash, almost taking off two of his fingertips in the process.

"Blasted bloody window!" he swore, hopping up and down from foot to foot while sucking on the sore digits. "Stupid thing just won't stay up!"

"Forget about it Padfoot, we need to get cracking!" Remus said heading for the stairs.

While Harry took a quick bath, Remus cleaned the mattress, sheets, and Harry's pyjamas with a cleaning and a drying spell. Then, while Harry change back into his clean night clothes, Sirius took off his shoes and tiptoed quietly into the children's room, where he remade the bunk and then stole snicklefritz out of her crib.

"Holly was worried about her big brother," he justified to nobody in particular as he came out, but the drooling happy baby tucked sleepily under his arm belied that statement.

"Yeah right, she looks terribly worried." Remus said cynically. "I think you just have a hard time putting her down."

"She'd just so warm and cuddly I have to pick her up. She loves her Uncle Siri, don't you Holly-dolly? Can you say 'Padfoot'? Paaaaddd-fooott? Baba gaga? Pa-foo? Ka-ma?" He cajoled in baby talk babble.

Remus smiled indulgently at his friend. Sirius' body was recovering slowly but surely from his long ordeal, thanks to Lily's ministrations, but his mind had a much longer path to travel to recovery, if it ever did.

When Sirius landed in Azkaban, it was as if his mind reverted to adolescence, and got stuck there permanently. All his actions were of an immediate nature, and for self-gratification, flitting from one thing to another, no thought of the future or consequences. As half-formed ideas or plans lost their attraction, he moved on, in favour of something else brighter and shinier, or more fun to do now. Lily was right. He really was just an overgrown kid.

"Er… what now Mr. Wolfe Sir?" a timid voice asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Now it's high time you call me Uncle Remmy again."

"And _Uncle _Siri, don't forget me." Sirius added.

"But… but I didn't win," Harry reminded them, looking from one to the other in confusion.

"No, we did." Sirius grinned. "And our prize is that you have to do something we ask you to do without arguing. What we want is for you to call us uncles again… or godfathers. Either will do fine, but NO 'sir', and absolutely NO 'mister'. Got that kiddo?"

"Got it!" Harry smiled shyly. So okay, maybe three people kind of liked him a little.

"Since you didn't win, you also don't get to stay up all night. You have school in the morning and it's high time you went back to bed." Remus ordered, taking the role of the responsible uncle, knowing without even asking that Sirius would just as soon be the fun one and let him stay up all night. "C'mon, I'll tuck you in."

Remus started to usher the pyjama clad Harry towards the children's bedroom, but stopped short when the young boy started resisting the steady pressure of the hand on his back. He could feel the sweat beading up on Harry's back through the cotton material, and could hear his breathing speed up. Remus knew the symptoms of a pending panic attack when he saw it, having suffered through them himself as a small boy with lycanthrope. He realized that the closer Harry got to the bedroom, the more he was in danger of having one. Pulling him back, he shoved all of Dudley's junk off the wooden rocker with one sweep of his arm, and brought the now sobbing boy onto his lap in a hug. Holding him tight while he rocked, he rubbed small circles on his back to soothe him and finally got him to calm again.

"What is it Harry? It wasn't just an 'accident' was it? Something frightened you in that room, didn't it?" He crooned softly in his ear, while continuing to comfort him, and got an almost imperceptible nod in return. "Will you tell me what it was?"

"Promise not to tell?" Harry was already sure that Mr. Krueger would get mad at him if he found out he had a nightmare and made a mess, and he wouldn't like it at all if he found out somebody else had to clean it up for him. He didn't want him to think he was any more of a spoiled brat than what he already did. He just couldn't let that happen!

When Remus nodded, Harry haltingly tried to vocalize his fears, but it was difficult to do as talking about his own feelings was new to him as his aunt and uncle discouraged it strongly. Slowly Remus drew it out of him anyway, all the taunting by his cousin, the threats, the blind panic, and the overwhelming fear, until exhausted Harry fell asleep in his arms. After his confession, Remus was prepared to let him sleep the rest of the night in his arms, no matter how uncomfortable he was himself.

Sirius was powerless to do anything but watch the heart-wrenching scene, and he was mystified as to what the problem was. Didn't they get everything cleaned up? Wasn't Dudley still clueless and snoring up a storm? Between Harry's sobbing admissions and Remus' soothing assurances, Sirius finally pieced together what had really happened. Only he was at a loss at what to do with the knowledge. He didn't like the feeling – it made him feel as if he were back in Azkaban and powerless to help those he loved.

Holly on the other hand, knew exactly what her big brother needed. He needed his daddy and mummy, and while he may be shy about letting them know, she certainly wasn't. She knew _exactly _how to tell them.

"**WHAAAAAAA! WHAAAAAAA!"**

"Shush…shush…there, there now." Sirius tried to quiet her before she woke up Harry.

However, Holly would not be shushed.

"**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"**

Sirius tried to hand her off to Remus only to get a what-did-I-tell-you-you-should-have-left-her-sleeping-in-her-crib-now-you-deal-with-it-because-I-have-my-hands-full-with-her-brother look in return. He needn't have worried, Harry slept right through it - stress had worn him out. James and Lily, however, did not. The minute Holly saw them come rushing out of their bedroom to heed her cry, she turned all smiles and coos.

"Why you little faker!" Sirius frowned at her only to receive a happy stream of baby drool down his front in compensation.

"What's going… on?" When he saw his two friends in his living room with his children, James stopped short in the doorway and lowered his wand.

"No worries," Remus whispered at him. "We have it mostly under control, everything that is except that my leg is falling asleep and if I move I'll wake Harry."

"Here, let me take him," Lily said relieving Remus of his load and letting Harry's head loll back against her shoulder.

"Careful Lily, he isn't too heavy is he?" James asked worriedly at seeing her pull a face as she lifted him up and cradled him to her.

"No, he's still very light. It's that nest box he won't let go of… it's poking me in the ribs."

"Any chance of making the switch?"

"Not a one, James. We already tried. The kid has a grip like a vice." Sirius said admiringly. Lily had to agree, Harry would let go. Even in his sleep, he fiercely protected the fragile egg.

"My little man," she crooned, kissing her sleeping son's cheek. Tasting salt, she looked at Remus and Sirius accusingly. "What did you two do now? He's been crying!"

"Nothing!" Sirius swore. "It wasn't us! Honest!"

Lily looked as though she didn't believe him, and James made a move to pull out his wand again and force a confession. So Remus hastily started to explain what Harry had told them, rationalizing to himself as he did so, that his promise to Harry would certainly not have included keeping his secret from his parents, but only from his cousin.

"That does it!" James vowed, "Dudley goes."

"But it wasn't really his fault," Lily protested. "We just didn't think when we brought the bunk beds in, that it would be a problem for Harry. On the surface, it was a good temporary solution to a very cramped space. We had no idea that it would remind Harry of that horrid cupboard."

"Cupboard? I still don't understand about that," Sirius said plopping down cross-legged on the floor with the now playful wide-awake Holly on his lap. "Harry said something about a cupboard when I was hiding under his bed, and then a couple of times since… but he's never elaborated. It seemed to upset him so I didn't want to push. What gives? Why would a cupboard give him nightmares? Other than sometimes you hide nasty things in them you really rather not be found."

"That's why Padfoot, that's exactly what the Dursleys did to Harry." James explained about the dark little hole that Harry's so-called loving relatives had so graciously allowed Harry to have as a bedroom, and how when they found him on Christmas Eve, it was after he had been locked in, and then forgotten for three days.

When Remus added what they had told him about Harry being close to dying from starvation and dehydration, while the Dursley's were blithely opening presents less than five meters away, Sirius' jaw got tight and an anger burned deep within his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He remembered with shame the conversation he had had with Harry the weekend before, and the careless remark he had made about people that didn't know how to play pranks having 'grown up in a cupboard'. Boy did he put his foot in it! He would have never said that, if he'd had even an inkling it could have been true. No wonder Harry had gotten so quiet and withdrawn, he must have thought he was ridiculing him for how his relatives had treated him, as if it were somehow his own fault.

"Because we don't want to see you thrown into muggle jail for murder, any more than we want to see you back in Azkaban," James stated dryly, taking the sleeping Harry from Lily and hugging him tight, nest and all. "I know I promised to give Dudley a chance, but I really think he has to go. Harry is much more important."

"James is right, Dudley goes." Sirius voted emphatically. "How do you vote Remus? You're being awfully quiet."

"Sorry guys, I'm with Lily on this one. I know he's a royal pain, but as she said, it's not his fault that his parents spoiled him. He's only a kid so he can't stay by himself."

"His Aunt Marge can't come, and I refuse to turn him over to strangers, he's my nephew! He's family! What if it were Harry without a place to stay?" Lily pleaded, her heart being big enough to include all sorts of unworthy little monsters.

"You're forgetting Lily… it _was_ Harry without a place to stay. Do you remember how _your_ _family_ treated him? He's having night panics over it for Merlin's sake!"

"What do you propose to do with him then?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged meaningful looks before Remus spoke up. "You can turn Dudley over to us. We'll take care of him," he offered.

"Reeeeaaaal good care." Sirius drawled nodding his head.

"You'd do that?" James asked questioningly, even though he was more than willing to take them up on it against his better judgment, before they could change their minds.

"But it's almost the full moon." Lily said voicing her doubts. "I don't know…"

"Don't worry. Sirius will help when I can't. Between the two of us, I think we can handle one nine-year-old for a week or two, I taught the same class you did for almost a month, I know what we're getting into. And I promise not to damage him in any way."

"At least not any _permanent _damage," Sirius promised wickedly. "Cross my heart."

"Tomorrow while they're at school, we can move all his stuff upstairs and get it out of the way and bring the couch back down. It'll give us all a little more room in the family area where it counts." Remus said indicating the stack he had pushed off the chair earlier just so he had a place to sit down.

"Yeah, I'm kind of a slob anyway. I probably won't even notice a few extra piles of junk lying about."

"But what do we do about the bunks?" Lily asked.

"Now that I know how they affect Harry, I won't even consider asking him sleep in them again." James vowed. "We can move them to the loft and Dudley can sleep up there."

"But think," Lily pleaded, "Dudley may be only nine too, but he isn't stupid. If we make a big issue out of the bunks now, Dudley might guess what happened and then he'll make Harry's life miserable at school, just as Harry's afraid he'll do. You saw what happened earlier, that was enough ammunition to hand him."

"So we'll order Dudley not to tease him." James said grasping at straws.

"Do you seriously think that will stop him?" Sirius asked, incredulous that James would even suggest it. "Would it have worked with you, when you were nine?"

"Probably not even at nineteen…" James admitted reluctantly.

"There's no probably about it," Lily sighed. "I admit it, my nephew is a bully. But I really think moving the bunks would just make things worse for Harry, besides I would really prefer that Dudley slept down here at night, where I can keep an eye on him. I don't want to add to his trauma of seeing his parents arrested by making him feel that I deserted him too, even if it is one floor. How else would he feel if we move his bed somewhere else now? Like any child, he needs to know that there is someone who wants him, and that he can count on to be there for him, no matter what he does."

"Of course you're right Lily," James said kissing her forehead, who could argue with the best mum ever? "Since it's only temporary, why don't we move the crib into our room for now? Then with the rest of Dudley's toys upstairs, there should be enough room to set Harry's bed back up. I just leaned it up against a wall downstairs in Remus' flat when we were trying to find space for all of Dudley's things. Gods! I feel like the worst dad in the world. I never meant to make my son uncomfortable in his own room. I really messed up, but I did think the bunks were a good idea…" James said guiltily.

"So did I James," Lily said squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Neither one of us were thinking much when we moved Dudley in, we were in crisis mode. It's just too bad we can't risk the amount of magic it would take to do a room expansion spell. If Remus and Sirius are willing to help, then your solution might work, but what about tonight?"

"I've got a solution for that too." James said grinning.

Thumpa–thump… thumpa–thump… the steady sound of hearts beating in unison slowly roused Harry out of his slumber. Feeling arms crisscrossing over him, he felt safe and wanted and loved, just like the very first night he had spent with his parents.

Snug and cosy between his parents in their big warm bed, at first he just felt so happy to be there that he thought he might burst. Then feeling the nest box nestled next to him, he remembered they didn't want him to develop any attachments, and all the insecure feelings came flooding back. He thought crossly that they were making that _very _hard not to do. Finally, embarrassment set in as it started to dawn on him how it was that he ended up in this cosy spot. His uncles must have ratted on him about what he'd done, although they'd promised. OH NO! What if they woke up Dudley and told him too!

Harry racked his brain, wondering what he could do to make them forget what his uncles had told them. Maybe, make them all breakfast! Food always seemed to help the Dursleys to like him a little better, as long as he didn't burn it. Only as he crawled out over their legs, he had second thoughts about doing so.

Wasn't he about to do the same thing he always did? Try to be what he _thought_ was a good boy? What was it he had overheard Mr. Krueger say the other night? Oh yeah… that he'd had eight years of having a good example to follow, and hadn't managed to improve yet and what was he trying to do now? Trying to prove his worth to them, the same old way that he had always tried to prove it to the Dursleys that had never worked on them either. His aunt and uncle had always said Dudley was the perfect child. Obviously, they had been right about that after all, proof given by the fact that everyone around seemed to agree with them.

Well, if Daddy and Mummy… er, the Kruegers… really thought that Dudley was such a great role model to follow, and by doing so, they would finally believe he had potential, and want him as a son again … then he would change! He would do his best to follow Dudley's example. If Dudley managed it for so long, how hard could it really be?

With a renewed determination to succeed at all costs, he squared his shoulders, took his nest box, pretended to be Dudley, and stomped noisily into the kitchen. What else would Dudley do besides make noise when everyone else was still asleep? Well, Dudley sure wouldn't cook for himself, let alone anyone else, that's for sure. He would do whatever took the less time and effort to satisfy his own stomach.

Pulling over a chair to the cabinets (making sure to drag it so that it made a horrible screeching sound), he stood on it on tiptoe so he could reach the Choco-Chunk cereal box on the top shelf. He didn't even bother to sweep up the spill when most of the box's contents ended up on the floor. The rest of it he dumped into a large mixing bowl, drenching it with the last of the milk and dumping on all of the sugar from the sugar bowl.

Harry tried to eat the whole thing, but besides being far too sweet for him, his stomach was already too full of butterflies to fit much of it in. He was barely able to choke down a few spoonfuls before he felt like sicking it all back up. Too bad Dudley didn't cook. He really preferred a nice hot breakfast to cold soggy cereal.

As he started to leave the partially eaten bowl of cereal on the table (as he could never remember seeing Dudley ever clear up his own dishes, that being one of Harry's daily chores) he stopped cold remembering the contradictory things that he had overheard the night before.

They wanted him to be like Dudley and follow his example, and Dudley made messes, but at the same time, they got upset when they saw the messes he made. Maybe they thought it was he, Harry, making all the messes, and not Dudley? Well that would make an ironic sort of sense. At Privet Drive, they always blamed him for anything Dudley did. Why should he think it would be any different here?

What he needed to be was a Dudley, only neater. That conflict resolved in his mind, he went back and put away the milk, swept up the spilled cereal, refilled the sugar bowl, washed his dishes, and cleared the table. Satisfied, he went to the living room.

Seeing his jeans and t-shirt in a pile on the floor by the rocking chair, he remembered that he had left them there the night before after he had changed back into his pyjamas. He sadly shook his head at this further evidence of another mess he had made. At least no one had noticed this one yet, so he took care of it quickly by getting dressed.

After dressing, he tiptoed into his bedroom and put his pyjamas away in the box under the bunk. Dudley was still snoring up a storm, dead to the world. Gathering up his book bag, he decided to keep it packed, just to stay prepared. He'd already lost his picture and he didn't want to chance losing anything else when they finally decided his time was up. If he continued to dress in layers, that left room in his bag for his schoolwork and his nest box. He slipped on his favourite jumper over his t-shirt and tiptoed back out.

What to do next? Since they had already blamed him for Dudley's piles of junk he was tempted to try and straighten them up. However, all the long hard lessons he'd suffered through, learning it was not wise to touch Dudley's things, were too hard to overcome. Blame worked two ways he figured, so it shouldn't do much more harm to keep ignoring them now.

Harry opted instead in favour of working on his vocabulary sentences. Pulling a dictionary off the shelf, he settled down cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table and pulled out his homework. Mr. Nathraichean had not been happy with his efforts during detention the day before, and had told him that he needed to study the definitions of the words more closely because he would quiz him during recess today. It was true, he had done a poor job, but it had been too hard to concentrate, what with Dudley shooting spitballs at him every time the teacher wasn't looking.

As the household started to rise, even though it went against the 'be-a-Dudley' plan, Harry decided for now it would best to act invisible and to stay out of everyone's way.

He felt a little pang of guilt when Uncle Remmy popped his head up through the floor, and seeing Harry already up, looked around hopefully for coffee, and found none brewing. After a few false starts, Uncle Remmy seemed to manage starting the pot by his self. Although he did forget about the coffee filter, and put in twice as much ground coffee as needed for even a strong brew. Then he topped it off with several heaping spoonfuls of instant coffee when he wasn't positive if he had put in enough.

He also didn't jump up and help when the unmistakable smell of forgotten toast wafted out of the kitchen. He just bit his tongue and didn't say a word, while Uncle Siri, who was preoccupied, trying to figure out how to use the juicer, let the bread burn to charred black squares of inedible charcoal and filled the kitchen with acrid smoke.

Then he cringed and tried to ignore Mr. Krueger's colourful language, when he broke his toe on the same pile of Dudley's toys that Harry had been tempted to pick up earlier, but then hadn't. He tripped in his haste to get to the kitchen to prevent it from burning down, when the pan of bacon that Uncle Remmy left on the stove caught fire, when he turned his back on it to help Uncle Siri with his toast crisis. It was a case of Marauder dominoes.

Harry felt the guiltiest however, about not doing anything when Holly woke up and started to fuss in her crib. He just plugged his ears with his fingers and hummed to himself to drown out her pitiful whimpers while he fought down the impulse to run and rescue her from her wet diaper, as he normally would have. Instead, he just let her cry until Mrs. Krueger stumbled out of the bedroom and did it instead.

Being a Dudley felt horrible. No wonder his cousin was always in a nasty mood!

"Whatchadoin?" the 'good example' himself asked plopping down in the wooden rocker behind Harry, his mouth full of the banana he was eating as an after breakfast snack. Dudley was still only partially dressed for school and idly picked up one of the shoes that Sirius had discarded there the night before, and tried it on for size. As he was a rather large boy, it almost fit.

"Homework," Harry muttered, not looking up from his paper. He wanted to ignore Dudley entirely, but that was hard to do when his cousin started kicking him in the centre of his back with the hard sole of Sirius' shoe every time he rocked forward.

"Homework?" Dudley scoffed, "Didn't you get yours done last night? Oh, yeah ... I remember now - you were just too stupid to do it again. I didn't have any," he added smugly, tossing the banana peel at Harry and hitting him in the head with it.

"Cut it out!" Harry hissed at him, knocking the peel off his ear. Quietly under his breath he added, "I only did, thanks to you." However, he wasn't quiet enough. His ever-opportunistic tormentor heard him anyway.

"Ha-ha! That's right - you're a loser! The teacher said you have to redo your homework in detention _every day, _until you get it right, and that means you'll be in detention the rest of your life because you're a stupid freaky loser who can't get anything right."

When Dudley's taunts got to be too much, Harry finally rose to the bait. "If I can't do anything right, then why did you steal my homework to begin with?"

"Cause you tricked me you freak, that's why." Dudley said giving Harry a particularly vicious kick.

"Ouch! I said cut it out! And what do you mean _I_ tricked _you_?"

"You wrote it bad on purpose, and then tricked me into handing it in, just so I would get into trouble with the teacher and have to stay in from recess."

"I did not! You stole it all on your own. Besides, I thought it was rather brilliant… OW! Quit it!" The repetitive kicking was really starting to hurt.

"You? Brilliant? That's a laugh! You're just a stupid iddy-biddy crybaby freak that sleeps in a crib, there's nuthin' brilliant bout that. Crybaby crybaby iddy-biddy crybaby."

When Dudley taunts started to hit close to home, Harry bit back any further retorts, and went back to ignoring him as best he could while Dudley continued to kick him in the back. He was just relieved that his uncles must have honoured their promise to keep his secret from his cousin, since Dudley hadn't started immediately teasing him about that too. He was worried that if he got into a fight with him now, it might accidentally come out anyway, as Dudley knew how to push all his buttons.

When Harry attempted to ignore him, despite the bruising he was taking, Dudley took it as a cue he was getting close to a raw nerve, and decided to prod deeper, kick harder, and taunt louder.

"And you better not touch any of my things while I'm here! That includes my bunk beds. I'm just sorry I didn't beat you to a pulp last night! I shoulda. I don't want you even looking at them again. They're mine! All mine! Both of them! My mummy said that they're only for my friends so they can sleep over, and you're not my friend. Now that you slept on one I'm gonna haft to burn the mattress to kill the cooties. So me and my gang, we're gonna hunt you down at lunch and make you pay for it. And if you try sleeping in it again I'm gonna pull you out of it and give you a bloody nose just like you gave me! And I'm gonna take my new Game Boy to school today to show the gang, and if I even catch you looking at it, I'm gonna beat you up. Got that detention boy?"

Dudley's loud voice brought James in from the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Got what? Dudley! Quit kicking Harry right now! And take off that shoe - it doesn't belong to you. Harry, are you okay? Did Dudley hurt you?"

"No Sir…" Harry gulped when he thought he saw James give him a sharp look at the title 'sir' but maybe Mr. Krueger hadn't noticed the slip. "… er … I'm fine." he finished quietly. He knew better than to complain about a little bruise, when you did, they had a tendency to multiply. Dudley wasn't kidding about hunting him down at lunch. He knew he couldn't outrun him forever, especially as they were forced roommates.

James did a double take when he heard his son called him 'sir' again instead of 'dad'. **NOOOOOO!** He was so _sure_ he'd handled that little problem, but come to think of it, Lily was right, Harry had been unusually quiet ever since their talk. Just like she said, he couldn't recall hearing him call them anything, it was just the lack of the sir and ma'am that he had noted, not that he called them daddy and mummy again, even though he heard him call Sirius and Remus 'uncles' just this morning. Maybe it was just them. Maybe he really didn't want them back as parents. They hadn't actually ever asked him if he wanted them, they just assumed he would. That _couldn't_ be it, could it? No! Impossible! It _had_ to be something else. Something else had to be wrong… but what?

He raked his fingers through his hair with worry, but looking at the clock, he realized he didn't have time to analyze it right now. The boys would be leaving for school soon, so he had to do something to try and fix it and quick! It was time for _Super-Dad!_

"So Dudley, what was that you said about detention?" James asked concerned as he noted his son's flushed face and the unbecoming smirk on that of his nephew's. He refused to let Dudley terrorize his son any longer. He had to show Harry he could count on him for understanding, and would always be in his corner no matter what.

Harry sent his cousin a pleading look over his shoulder. They didn't know yet that he had gotten detention, and he didn't want them to find out. He had always stuck firmly to the helpful motto of 'don't ask – don't tell' in situations like this. It had served him well as a faithful guide during all the years that he lived on Privet Drive. He had found out early that Dudley was able to get him into enough trouble, without voluntarily adding to it.

An evil grin grew on Dudley face. He knew he had Harry cornered, and mouthed the words _'you owe me'_ silently to his cousin. Harry reluctantly nodded back in agreement, sealing the unspoken pact.

"Why Uncle, you heard me wrong. I said _tension_ not _detention_." Dudley spoke up sweetly, "I didn't want there to be any _tension_ between Harry and me. So I was just telling him how _sorry_ I was about how our fight the other night turned out, and how I was gonna fix it. I thought I would take one of my new toys to share today at school… that is…" he added slyly "…if that's okay with you, Uncle."

"Is that true _Son_?" James asked stressing the word 'son' and showing Harry that he wasn't just going to believe Dudley's dubious word over his. He needed to put things right with Harry and to make sure that he knew he could count on him for protection, and that he would always be there to listen. "Did Dudley tell you he was sorry?"

"Er… yeah, Dudley said he was sorry all right…" Harry said stabbing the paper with his pencil and breaking off the lead. _'…sorry he didn't beat me up.' _He wished Mr. Krueger would quit calling him 'son' like that, sounding as if he cared and everything, if he didn't really mean it. It was getting more and more difficult on him not to love him too much.

"Okay then... I guess." James was doubtful, but he put on his very best parental hat and commended Dudley for his actions anyway. "It was very nice of you to apologize Dudley, and I appreciate you being willing to share your toys, thank you for making the effort. You may take one toy today, but no playing with it except during recess. Okay?"

After getting a dutiful 'Yes Uncle' from Dudley, James turned to Harry and hesitated. He didn't really want to say what he was going to say, but felt he had to since a 'good father' would. Taking a deep breath he asked, "Son, did you apologize to Dudley too?"

"No…," Harry replied softly, closing his eyes as if it would block out hearing the word 'son' as easily as it blocked the caring look on Mr. Krueger's face from his view.

James had his doubts that Dudley would willingly share anything, and he really didn't think Dudley deserved an apology, least of all from Harry. Nevertheless, he took Harry closing his eyes before he answered him as a sign that he felt guilty about the fight as well and was reluctant to face him. Therefore, while he hated having Harry apologize in return, it was the fatherly thing to do. If his son refusing to call him 'daddy' wasn't an indication that he hadn't measured up in that area lately, than he didn't know what did.

"Hadn't you better then Son? It takes two to make a fight. If Dudley apologized, then you should too."

"Sorry Dudley." Harry said dully.

"Apology accepted." Dudley gloated triumphantly and then shrunk a bit when he saw the disapproving look from his uncle.

James fumed and longed to wipe that smug smirk off Dudley's face. Somehow, his devious nephew had just tricked him into betraying his son's trust again. Something had been going on between the two boys before he walked in, and he could kick himself for not intervening before it started, or later when it had gone so far that they wouldn't have been able to hide what was really going on. Either way his timing stunk, but he couldn't do anything about it now. Especially if neither of them would admit to anything.

"Dudley, what did I tell you at breakfast?"

"Um… I dunno Uncle, what?" Dudley asked innocently.

"I think you do young man. Now the question is - what are you going to do about it?" he asked as he pointed at the banana peel lying on the floor. James was frustrated that the pint-sized fiend was still doing anything he wanted to, right under his very nose, even after he laid down the rules at breakfast, in no uncertain terms. It was as if he was powerless to stop it. It was no wonder Harry had anxiety attacks concerning his cousin. He would too, if he had had to grow up in the same house as Dudley.

"Oh that's not _mine_ Uncle. Harry dropped it there. Didn't you Harry?" Dudley said as he 'accidentally' kicked Harry one last time, in the process of taking off the shoe as they had told him to do. "I'd pick it up for him, and help him out, but my toe still hurts."

Harry didn't say a word but sighed, got up, picked up the peel, and tossed it into the trash bin while Dudley smugly said, "Don't worry Uncle, I'll make sure Harry picks up _everything_, I'm used to it. He was _always _acting up at home and causing trouble. Whenever Mum and Dad couldn't take it any longer, they would ask me to supervise him. So I've got_ loads _of experience already."

Harry gave his cousin a dirty look. Nothing was going right. His dad – er – _Mr. Krueger_ now thought he was a troublemaker, in addition to being messy. If he didn't act as Dudley did, he got into trouble, and if he did, he still got into trouble!

"I think I would prefer it if you to left Harry to me." James glowered at Dudley.

"Okay Uncle, I was just offering," Dudley said with a hurt tone, "you _did_ tell me to be helpful while I was here."

"That's not what I meant."

"Whatever," Dudley shrugged and rolled his eyes, "But if you need any tips on keeping him in line, just let me know, I am an expert at it."

"Dudley, if you knew what was good for you - you'd go get ready for school… **NOW!**" James seethed, pointing to the children's bedroom and mentally adding _'before I turn you into a guppy.'_

When he'd pushed his uncle to the point of erupting, Dudley knew his work was done so he sauntered off to find his own shoes. James took the opportunity to pull Harry aside.

"Harry… um… _Son_… do you remember when we talked yesterday?"

Harry nodded solemnly, oh yes he remembered, _very_ well. It was kind of hard to forget getting your heart ripped out and stomped on.

"I thought we agreed that you weren't going to call us 'sir' and 'ma'am' anymore."

"…sorry… I didn't mean to… really. I-I promise it won't happen again." Harry said softly, hanging his head sadly at the disappointed tone in Mr. Krueger's voice. It had just been one little tiny slip, and he had so hoped he hadn't noticed it. It was just that it was so much easier just to say 'sir', as he'd been trained to do, than to say 'mister' all the time.

His Uncle Vernon had always insisted he call him and Aunt Petunia by the impersonal terms of 'sir' and 'ma'am' in public, instead of by name. No 'uncle' this or 'mister' that was allowed. They even wanted him to call Dudley 'young sir' (after gagging trying to do that once he settled on just calling his cousin 'hey you'). By keeping it impersonal, if Uncle Vernon caught him doing something unnatural or embarrassing, he could simply claim he didn't know him. And that worked very well for Uncle Vernon, of course when he then continued the charade to the point that he left Harry stranded somewhere until he considered it 'safe' to come back and pick him up, it didn't work so well for Harry. It always made him feel very unwanted, as he was never sure if his relatives would remember to come back. Sometimes they hadn't… for hours.

"Son… you do know that I'm not upset with you, and that I love you very much, don't you?" James asked gently, lifting Harry's chin and searching his eyes for understanding, and feeling disheartened when he found none.

Harry didn't believe that at all but he nodded yes anyway – very unconvincingly so.

"I hope someday you really do Son." James didn't know what to do or say that would get through to him that they loved him, and he was so choke up with emotion that further words wouldn't come, so he just gave Harry a fierce hug and then sent him to finish getting ready for school. The sooner they got going, the sooner they could start putting Harry's world to rights again and make up for all the anguish of the last two nights.

Going back into the kitchen, he found Remus and Sirius busily making the kids sack lunches while Lily wrote a note at the table.

"Oh no no no! Remus stop! The apple doesn't go in Harry's lunch. Remember? Our widdle Diddydummy gets the apple." Sirius instructed, smirking as he moved the apple from the sack marked with an 'H' to the one with a 'D', and replaced it with an orange.

"So right you are! Now… what kind of sandwiches are we making again?"

"Ham and Cheese."

"Oh… I thought they were going to be Peanut Butter…" Remus paused and considered the jar of jelly he held with a frown before shrugging and slapping the bread together anyway and announcing the sandwiches finished.

"What are you two up to now?" James asked warily.

"Um… nothing." Sirius answered as he hurriedly shoved a sandwich into the lunch sack with the big 'D' written on it, and then said innocently, "We're just being mummy's little helpers, aren't we Lily?"

"Um-huh… very helpful," she mumbled absentmindedly as she finished writing. "There done. That ought to do it."

"Ought to do what?" James asked, wandering over to read over her shoulder.

"I wrote a note to Harry's teacher."

"Is that a good idea?" James asked. "From the boys description he seems like an uptight jerk. He probably doesn't appreciate parental interference."

"It's not that kind of note. I tried twice now to talk with him, but he had already left. I want to meet with him to talk about Harry's progress, and ask him to watch over Harry in class. You know, to make sure Dudley isn't picking on him when we aren't there."

"Oh no, that doesn't sound like interfering at all." Sirius snorted sarcastically from the sidelines, only to have Remus elbow him in the ribs to shut up.

"I always respected parents who wanted to be involved with their children's education, not enough do." Remus said supportively. "I'm sure Lily will handle it fine."

"Are you about ready then Lily? I thought we could walk the boys to school on the way to check on how Vernon and Petunia are enjoying their…ah… 'Holiday' and see if they are in a more cooperative mood yet. I don't intend to leave Harry unchaperoned with Dudley around if I can help. I just don't trust our darling nephew to behave himself."

"Why, did something else happen?" Lily asked looking up worriedly. "Is Harry okay?"

"Maybe - I think so - okay, I don't really know. It's just a gut instinct I have that Dudley is up to something, and I have the oddest feeling that Harry is covering for him."

"But why would he do that? Maybe it's time to consult a real mind healer and not just books in the muggle library." Remus suggested as he tried to make sense of it himself by mentally running back through all the research he had been doing.

"He's nine. He's normal." Sirius contributed shrugging. "Since when do nine-year-olds make sense, or do anything you expect them too? I know I was in Azkaban a long time, but I doubt if that's changed."

"I suppose..." James said slowly. "But I wish I knew what went on in his mind. I just feel like I'm missing something. It's too bad I never could never get the hang of doing Legilimency it would have come in handy about now."

"Sev was good at it," Lily said distractedly. She was busy reading the note over again, so she didn't see the jealous look flicker across James' face at her offhanded comment.

_**Mr. Nathraichean,**_

_**I would like to apologize for not asking to talk with you sooner, regarding my son  
Harry's schoolwork, and his challenges with the last essay you assigned. I've been  
regrettably, much too slow to catch you after school, but I would like to discuss his  
progress in class. He is not one to demand undue attention, but I assure you he's  
very bright, and he definitely is a hard worker, so I know that it isn't because he  
lacks for potential. I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. I believe if we work together, it's not  
too late to overcome it now. Please let me know when it is convenient to meet.**_

_**Sincerely, Mrs. Rose Krueger**_

Satisfied that her message would make the right impression to the illusive teacher, Lily folded the note in thirds and picked up the lunches. "I'm ready," she nodded. "Remus and Sirius are going to babysit Holly while we check on Petunia and Vernon."

"Time to go boys!" James sang out to the sound of little feet scrambling for the door.

Harry welcomed the unexpected escort, and stuck close to Mr. Krueger's heels all the way to school, being careful not to get too close to Dudley and his swinging book bag. He had enough bruises already. At the corner of the playground, James reminded Dudley sternly he was to share and was not to play with his toy except at recess. Lily gave them both a hug and a kiss, and then handed them their lunches with instructions to be good. After sending Dudley on his way, she also handed the folded note to Harry.

"I want you to give this to your teacher for me. Will you do that?" Lily asked lovingly holding his face in her hands, and kissing his forehead one more time she tried not to take offense to how rigid he held himself in her embrace.

"Yes Ma'am…" Harry started to reply and then froze at the sharp intake of breath from both of the Kruegers. "Oh! I'm sorry Mr. Krueger! I remember what you said! I do! I didn't mean to say ma'am! Really I didn't! I meant to say – 'Yes Mrs. Krueger, I will, right away Mrs. Krueger'! Bye!"

Panicking at making the same mistake, after promising not to forget again just a short fifteen minutes earlier, Harry mistook the real meaning of the shocked look on their faces for ones of disgust as he used to see on Aunt Petunia. Turning quickly on his heels he ran onto the playground without hearing his mum turn to his dad and start weeping on his shoulder, _"JAMES! WHAT DID YOU DO? I'm not supposed to be a 'missus'! I'm supposed to be a 'mummy'! I want to be mummyyyyy again! Harry's mummmmyyyyy!" _

He also didn't hear his daddy comfort her as he led her away with an arm around her saying, "there, there, I'm sorry Rosie-Posy it'll be okay. I want to hear Harry to call me daddy again too, that's the only reason I talked to him about it, honest! I know you didn't want me to, and I guess it backfired. But he'll come around we just have to be patient."

No, Harry didn't hear any of that. All Harry heard was Dudley's laughter from above, after he tripped him on the far side of the Jungle Gym, when he ran blindly past him with tear-filled eyes. Dudley knew it was a good spot for an ambush as it was out of sight from the street. Harry rolled into a ball as he hit the ground, with the book bag holding the precious egg protected in the centre of his arms. He came to a stop with a murderous look on his face. Dudley! He could have broken the egg!

The reason Harry had always run from Dudley in the past wasn't out of fear, and he wasn't afraid of Dudley now, even if that was what Dudley thought. It was just that Harry was smart enough to know when he was outsized and outnumbered, as Dudley usually didn't bother him unless he had his gang around to help out, Dudley preferring to show off in front of an audience.

This morning however, Dudley's gang was nowhere nearby, and the only reason he had the bravado to go it alone, was because he was frustrated with all the sudden changes and disruptions in his life, and had to take it out on somebody. Since his mum and dad had always said that when freaky unexplainable stuff happened, that it was Harry's fault – then that somebody to take it out on must be Harry, his favourite punching bag.

"Ha-ha! Dad was right! They don't want you, do they Freak? I heard – they don't even want you to call them mum and dad. You even have to call them mister and missus. Ha-ha! They found out you were a freak didn't they? And now they're going to dump you back on us aren't they?" Dudley jeered kicked at his cousin's head but missed and connected with Harry's shoulder instead - due to years of Harry learning to duck out of the way of Dudley's fists and feet quickly. "That's just a taste of what you'll get when we go back home, to my_ real_ home, not that dinky flat."

"Leave me alone Dudley, I'm warning you." Harry said uncurling and getting quickly back on his feet. Being on the ground around Dudley was an open invitation for more kicks. After quickly checking on the egg, he breathed a sigh of relief that it was still in one piece, although it was giving off annoyed vibrations again.

His palms were dirty from trying to break his fall, so he wiped them off on the legs of his jeans. That was when he realized that other than the book bag, his hands were empty. He had lost the note Mrs. Krueger had given him for his teacher. Looking around for it, he spotted in the same split second that Dudley did. Harry reached down to pick it up, but Dudley was closer and grabbed the note out of his grasp.

"What's it say?"

"It's none of your business Dudley! Give it back! It's mine!" He was not going to let his cousin steal his stuff two days in a row. Harry tried to snatch the note back, only Dudley's meaty arm pushing him on his chest, held him at arm's length so that all he could reach with his swing was air.

"Not anymore!" Dudley grinned as the smaller boy ineffectively tried to punch him. Harry lunged, and finally caught the edge of the note and tried to pull it out of his cousin's hand. Dudley stumbled backwards in an effort to retain possession and fell on his bum, causing the note to rip in two - right down one of the creases. Nevertheless, Dudley still felt as though he'd won since he had the larger two-thirds piece.

"Ha! How stupid are you? Everybody knows you ain't got nuthin'!" Dudley sneered up at Harry, not noticing at first what was holding his cousin back from throwing himself bodily on him with fists flying.

"That is 'do not have anything', not 'ain't got nuthin'," a low silky voice drawled from behind Harry, one hand firmly on the smaller boy's shoulder, and one on his back, preventing him from going anywhere. Feeling the child recoil under his touch, he clamped down even harder on the shoulder with a vice like steel grip.

"Fighting again I see?"

"It wasn't me Mr. Nathraichean! Honest! It was all Harry's fault! He's a maniac! You stopped him just in time! Monday he gave me a bloody nose and now he hit me again! And I wasn't doin' nuthin' at all!" Dudley wailed pathetically trying to shed a few fake tears, as he quickly shoved the remaining piece of the note deep in his pocket to hide the evidence of his wrongdoing.

"Is that so," the teacher commented dryly, looking down at the blond boy on the ground. Sadly, in his opinion, Dudley looked remarkably unscathed for a recent attack victim.

A teacher's job is a thankless one, he thought. He was just annoyed that for the second time he had interrupted Potter a moment too soon. His timing was normally better than that, just one more thing to blame on the after- effects of his horrendous weekend.

The only bright spot to the last several days had been previous night, when he had checked on Potter's security. Through the open upstairs window, he had spotted someone moving about in the darkened bedroom. No doubt, Dudley was once again preparing to do a little target practice with his BB gun, so he took the precautionary action of slamming the sash down on his little shooter's fingers. He would have thought that at least a bandage would be evident, if not a full hand cast, knowing the boy's love of histrionics. Shame, his timing must have been off last night too. He must have missed… NOT that he would ever hurt a child… on purpose...

"Is that true Mister…_'Krueger'_? Were you attempting to bloody Mister Dursley's nose?"

"I guess so."

"Either you were or you were not. Which was it? 'Guessing' is for pop quizzes as you have so aptly demonstrated on many an occasion."

"Okay, yes I was." Harry replied defiantly. Geeze! The teacher sounded just like Mrs. Krueger and Uncle Remmy, they never let him get away with just saying 'he guessed so', either. It must be a teacher thing.

"Yes you were what young man?" Severus asked whirling him around to face him, but still not letting go of his shoulder while holding him at arm's length. He had no intention of those little fists catching him unaware again.

"Yes I was…_**Sir**_," he added unrepentantly.

"Dare I ask why? Or was it unprovoked as suggested?"

"Dudley - he took my note… I mean your note… I mean the note mum… er… Mrs. Krueger gave me to give to you. He took it and he put it in his pocket. I saw him! Make him give it back!"

"That note?" Mr. Nathraichean asked nodding his head toward the fragment of paper clutched tightly in Harry's hand.

"Oh…!" Harry's jaw hung open in surprise. He was positive Dudley still had it!

"If your mouth stays open much longer you will draw flies. I advise you to shut it and hand over the note as per your maternal directive."

Harry snapped his jaw shut and thrust the paper at his teacher.

"To class," he ordered, letting go of Harry and dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

They both took off running, trying to outrace the other, neither one willing to be last again. Following them at a more sedate pace, he smoothed out and read the note,

_**Mr. Nathraichean,**_

_**I would like to apologize for  
**__**Harry's schoolwork, and his**__**  
**__**regrettably, much too slow**_

_**progress in class. He is not**__**  
very bright, and he definitely  
**__**lacks for potential. I'm sure it's**__**  
**__**too late to overcome it now.**_

___**Sincerely, Mrs. Rose Krueger**__  
_

The note was short, succinct, and scripted in a deceptively gracious flowing hand. Had it been written with quill ink on parchment instead of fountain pen on a scrap of lined muggle paper, and with the optimistic outlook that she was famous for instead of those disparaging words, than he could almost imagine it to be that of Lily Evans Potter - Harry's true mother. The styling of the whorls and loops was very similar, too similar…

No, Severus thought angrily, he was just seeing more in it than what was there.

When he had first opened it, he had gotten a whiff of a unique scent, with notes of spice and lilies. The scent angered him even further as it reminded him even more painfully of his beloved Lily. It was eerily similar to the scent he had given her at graduation, his last try to win her heart. As it sadly turned out, it had also been his last gift to her. Now to think that a cheap wannabe stand-in for the irreplaceable Lily Evans wore anything near her special scent, it was an unthinkable insult.

Every time he turned around lately, something reminded him of his lost childhood friend. First, he had to teach her offspring every day, to see her beautiful emerald eyes looking out of James Potter's face, then those fools in Diagon Alley accusing him of having a son, the son he had wanted to have with Lily, and now this note. No wonder he had been imagining things. It was the brat's fault!

Up until this ill-conceived mission of Albus Dumbledore's, he had been successful at keeping his memories of Lily locked safely away, deep within his heart. Now it was as if she were haunting him. His logical mind rationalized that it was only his irrational imagination, lending substance to his heart's desire, but still…

Severus shook his head and scowled fiercely. He was not one for flights of fancy. Stark reality, no matter how miserable, was a spy's protection and he took comfort in that. He could not afford to slip up now. Lily was dead, dead, dead. No one knew that better than he did, as he was the catalyst that had caused it. He had lost his best friend, actually the only real friend he had ever had, because of his own destructive obsession. Why couldn't he just let go?

Even now, he felt a pang of jealously when he thought of how Lily had chosen James Potter over him. She had assured him that even though she loved James, that her heart was big enough to love them both. She said that he would always be special to her, that he would always be her best friend, and that he would always own a piece of her heart that no one else could ever have, not even James.

However, Severus hadn't been willing to share.

That jealously had led him to do two of the stupidest things he had ever done in his life, take the dark mark, and betray the love of his life. As with all things in his life, karma had come around to bite him in the arse, as he now had to contend with her wretched offspring, who had started to act entirely too much like his father. Crumpling the note angrily, he shoved it in his pocket.

'…_but still, how dare she? How dare this Rose Krueger person pronounce judgment on Lily's child? How dare she write him off as a hopeless cause! THAT is for ME to do and ME alone!' _he thought darkly as he stalked down the hallway. The possessive streak that he denied having came out full force and caused all the dawdling students before him scatter as if pushed by a shock wave.

'_It is for ME to nip his bullying tendencies in the bud. It is for ME to belittle and ridicule him, to make sure he doesn't grow up with fame bloating his self-importance. I was his mother's best friend. As such, it is not only MY right - it is MY duty to whip him into shape. And I do NOT need the opinion of any interfering 'mother' type to do it!'_

He took the note back out and reread it before balling it back up.

'_Not bright? Lacks for potential? BAH! It is MY right as his teacher to decide that, MY right, because if things had been different, he would have been MY child, a Snape - NOT a Potter and definitely NOT a Krueger! I will take him, and I will shape him, and I will mould him into the son that Lily would have been proud of, if it kills…' _

Sweeping into the classroom, he said not a word but glowered at each child in turn until his obsidian eyes locked onto those of the emerald green eyed boy-who-lived-to-vex-him and he finished his thought, _'…the both of us.'_


	8. A Patchwork Egg: part 3

After twenty-two terrified children chanted 'Good morning Mr. Nathraichean' in sing-song unison, Severus smiled solicitously at them in return (terrifying them even further by showing teeth), and then said smoothly, "Those of you, who were required to rework your vocabulary sentences, which unfortunately was all of you, sans Miss Jones. Please turn them in now."

A flurry of paper flew overhead from child to child up the rows in his direction until a neat stack appeared on the corner of his desk.

"If you desire a passing mark I suggest you open your readers to page eighty four and start reading quietly while I evaluate your work," he remarked coolly and he sat down and drew out a new red pen. Twenty-one children scrambled to find the right passage, everyone but Dudley, that is.

Dudley flipped open his book to a random page, not even attempting to find the right one, and scowled. He hated reading, and this teacher liked to assign the activity frequently. It wasn't because he had a hard time reading he just didn't see the point of doing it, unless you absolutely had to.

He really thought that computers were the way of the future so who needed all this? Besides, he'd had his fill of reading last night, when his former temporary teacher Mr. Wolfe, or 'Uncle Remmy' as he had invited him to address him, suggested it as a 'fun' family activity. They all took turns reading aloud from some stupid book called 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard'. Some fun - he would have rather played with his Game Boy.

Dinner was not what he expected - salad and baked skinless chicken breast, and worst – no pudding! Then all night long, his aunt had hovered over him as if she thought he would go all weepy or something - just because his parents went on Holiday without him? Get real Auntie! He didn't really care, he knew they'd come back eventually, and when they did they would bring him a mountain of presents. In addition, the longer they were gone the more presents he would get. He'd usually rake in one for every day her little Diddydums had to survive without his Mummykins. He really had no worries at all. They wouldn't ever really leave him. After all, _he_ wasn't the freak.

He would have preferred if they had just left him alone play with his video games until his thumbs hurt, and then let him watch his telly until the wee hours of the morning. That's what he would have done if he had been at home, but his relative's flat was too small to have any privacy. His accommodations were definitely NOT up to his standards. Why, he even had to share _his_ room and _his_ bunks with the freak and his freaky little sister.

Dudley just wanted to go home - his home. He would have to give his parents a stern talking to when they came back for not making better arrangements. Moreover, he would demand two presents for every day they're gone, he decided.

In the meantime, however, he would have to make the best of it even though it was looking dismal. This morning at breakfast his Auntie Lily seemed to think it didn't matter that his favourite Choco-Chunk cereal box was completely empty and gave him porridge, instead of running out to the market to get him a new box as his mum would have. Sure, she doctored it up with honey and lots of raisins, but still…Yuck! What did she think she was running – a prison?

His morning continued to go downhill when his Uncle James told him that while he was there that he expected him to do chores to help out, which included picking up after himself and not scattering his toys around where people could trip over them. That was all fine and dandy, but where was he supposed to put them? It wasn't his fault that there wasn't a spare bedroom in their dinky flat for all things as he had at home.

Then to top it all off, Uncle James had the nerve to tell him that he should try to be more like his freaky little cousin. As if! From watching a much better role model than his freaky cousin, his father to be exact, Dudley knew how to deal with untenable circumstances such as what he found himself in now.

Step one, you had to assess the situation and decided what tactic would serve you best. From the immediate swat on the behind he got from his uncle, when he started to throw a tantrum over the missing Choco-chunks, he knew all the warnings his Aunt Lily had given him about behaving 'nice' in their home, weren't just idle ones.

Therefore, no tantrums - these rubes seemed to react better if they thought they were 'saving' someone instead of placating them. They were complete opposites of his parents, who viewed 'needing to be saved' as a revolting weakness. He would need to be polite and use his best manners. In addition, he must always - _always_ - appear to be the injured party in any altercation. Lastly, dare he say it? If push comes to shove he might even (gulp) have to 'help out' a little with chores.

No! That was going too far, he had to use his head like his dad taught him. When pushed into a corner, was when you had to go to step two, which was to find the weakest link and then exploit it. All you needed was a little leverage, and then you could blackmail someone into taking care of all the dirty work for you. In this case, he already had the perfect built-in already trained patsy – his cousin the freak. He chuckled to himself as he pulled out his Game Boy. It was almost too easy!

'_This is just too easy, like taking points from a Gryffindor,' _the teacher thought as he littered another homework paper liberally with scornful comments.

Once again, the class had failed to complete the assignment successfully. He knew it wasn't for his lack of instruction. After the last set was marked so low, he demonstrated quite clearly how to look up the meanings of the words in the dictionary. The flaw in that approach was obvious now that he thought about it - the little dunderheads would have had to know how to spell the words first, before they could have looked them up.

At the sound of a small mechanical beep, Severus glanced up sharply and glared about the room. All the children appeared to be industriously reading the assignment, which was a good thing for them, because if they had been paying attention at all during the last few weeks, they would have realized that there was nothing their teacher liked better after grading their homework, than to follow it up with a pop quiz on the reading material.

When the mysterious beep failed to repeat, the teacher picked up the next paper and began to read…

_**Dennis - 'Propper': My dad likes to propper his feet up when he gets home from work and drink lots of beer and belch and watch telly in his undershirt and underpants.**_

Mister Dwyer – I am sure your father is quite comfortable making this fashion statement in the privacy of his own home. However, I am not as certain that he would consider it a proper topic for you to be writing about in class. 'C-'

_**Daphne - 'Two ply City': My mum never ever ever complains when she goes into the city for tea about the chinzee restarrant loos that only have one ply when she likes two ply. **_

Miss Webb - While I sympathize with your mother's plight, the very fact that you have heard her opinion on the matter, leads this reader to believe that she did indeed complain in length. Therefore, the duplicity in your statement leaves you with a chintzy 'C', as I am unwilling to part with more.

'… beep! ...'

Severus looked up sharply. There was that annoying beep again! Who was making it? Slowly surveying the students one by one, he narrowed the suspects down to two - Dursley who looked very pleased, and Potter who looked very guilty.

Potter kept looking in his desk, and then he would shut the lid and glance around quickly as if he were afraid someone had noticed. Well, he had noticed, and if Potter were hiding the noisemaker in his desk - it would soon be forfeit.

Severus narrowed his eyes and stared at Potter until, feeling the teacher's unrelenting gaze the boy looked up and locked eyes with his. He could feel Potter's thoughts and emotions starting to rise behind the surface of those emerald green eyes. Just a few seconds more…

Merlin! He wished he wasn't always so honourable he criticized himself as he abruptly broke the mind link. He hadn't been in the boy's mind long enough to pick through his memories or to find out anything concrete, all he had time to feel were just vaguest of emotions. Still, the taste that he got troubled him. Something was not right with Lily's boy, and he had the feeling that whatever it was, that Albus knew it was there all along. Why else would the old wizard continue to be being so persistent about this 'research', even though he had already dispelled the notion of any real threat to the boy's safety? He hated it when Albus was right. He always looked so smug when you had to admit it.

For the moment, he couldn't do anything about it. However, he intended to delve into it further during Potter's detention. He allowed himself the smallest of smirks when he thought about how very clever he was in assigning it. With Potter in detention both morning and afternoon, he could keep a close eye on him with very little trouble and thus satisfy Albus, and he would have time alone with the boy to satisfy his own curiosity. Yes, detention was a wonderful tool, whoever thought it up should get an award, he thought as he went back to grading the vocabulary papers.

_**Annie – 'A lye': My sister tried to sneak in and when she got caught, she lyed and said that she was up late cramming for a test. She got a new dress for her hard work. When I tell my mum that you gave me an 'A' on my homework she will buy me a new dress too and that's not a lye. **_

Miss Hendricks: I am sure that in the end, you and your sister will both get what you so richly deserve. In the meantime, do not involve me as an ally in your prevarication. 'C+'

Yesterday when he gave out pointers, he had suggested to the children that if they wrote about things that they knew it would come easier. However, he had not expected a confessional. Still, there was a slight improvement, and this time he had no doubt from the content, that the children were doing their own work. Unlike Mister Dursley who… wait a minute - eighteen, nineteen… there should be twenty today. One short… again.

Dudley idly flipped a few more pages to keep up the charade that he was reading instead of playing Pokémon on his Game Boy. As he won another game he smirked at the thought of blackmailing his cousin into being his own personal slave, and doing all his chores. Maybe if he did them real good he might even reward him by letting him look at his Game Boy from across the room. That would kind of be like sharing. Suddenly Dennis poked him in the back.

"Psssstttt! Dudley! Are you dozy or something? The teacher looks like he's got his knickers in a twist and he's looking right at you!" Dudley glanced up to the head of the classroom and saw that Mr. Nathraichean indeed had focused his attention entirely on him. Piers was right, he did not look pleased, not in the least. He quickly hid the Game Boy under his shirt.

"Mister Dursley, where is your homework?"

"I did it yesterday during recess. You should know, you made me do it," he replied flippantly to the teacher's ongoing annoyance.

"As I recall, I also told you at the time, that your penmanship was unacceptable."

"So what?"

"So that was part of the assignment. The sentences were to have four components, spelling, grammar, vocabulary, and penmanship. Yours lacked the latter, therefore it was incomplete."

"But that's not fair," Dudley whinged. "It wasn't my fault!"

"Please enlighten me. To whose fault do you attribute your shortcoming then?"

"It's Harry's!" Dudley wailed pointing an accusing finger at this cousin. "He kept bugging me the whole time. When you weren't looking, he shot spitballs at me!"

Looking at the floor there were indeed a scattering of dried wads of paper ground into the floor, marking a path between the two cousins' desks, laying some credence to his tale. However, firsthand experience of Dudley and his predilection for firearms, told him that Dudley was the shooter and was lying through his teeth. Only a day of the wads being trod upon made it hard to ascertain which end of the trail was the point of origin.

"Mister…_'Krueger'_ were you indeed the source of the missiles?" the teacher demanded.

Dudley glared at Harry from across the room with a look that told him that if he dared to contradict his story, he would pay the ultimate price later.

Harry swallowed hard, looked down at his desk, and just nodded miserably.

"Very well... you will get supplies from the custodian and scrub the floor during recess." I was not exactly what he had planned for Potter's detention today, but it would keep the boy occupied and give him ample time to observe him.

All the rest of the kids sniggered behind their hands, except for Dudley – he chortled out loud with glee. It was just soooooo easy! He was going to have fun with this!

"And Mister Dursley, as you cannot seem to concentrate during school, you may practice your penmanship at home. One hundred lines, due tomorrow: 'I will not mock my teacher during class by pretending to do my reading assignment'." That should suffice. He had punished Dursley, as was fitting, and he would not have the blond boy intruding on his detention time with Potter again.

The words wiped the gleeful look from Dudley's face. He liked this teacher less and less every day. He was just glad there wasn't another floor in the building where his aunt lived or he'd probably move in too!

Harry on the other hand, thought it was quite funny that Mr. Nathraichean had noticed Dudley wasn't doing the assignment, and hadn't let him get away with it. Finally, his cousin was getting back some of what he dished out. Harry was beginning to like this gruff snarky teacher more and more every day. Moreover, he was beginning to see what his dad had said respecting his teacher as long as he was fair in his actions and words.

While it was still true, that he felt Mr. Nathraichean didn't exactly like him, Harry had been watching carefully and had observed that he treated all the kids with the same equal contempt. Not much got past him, and he didn't play favourites. Given the circumstances, Harry really couldn't say that any of his punishments weren't fair, especially as he had confessed… well except for being blamed for the apple incidence - he still had no idea how that had happened.

Having detention turned out to be to his advantage anyway, as he could keep a close eye on his egg and make sure it stayed warm, moist and ventilated, and that it got turned on schedule. Best of all, what with staying in during recess, he wasn't going to have to worry about Dudley and his gang hunting him down and beating him up.

Harry was actually looking forward to his detention today, and having the opportunity to do something to please his teacher to repay him for standing up for him. In his way of thinking, scrubbing the floor (something he was good at thanks to Aunt Petunia), was a small price to pay for the warm safe feeling he had being protected under his teacher's sharp watchful eye. Therefore, it was with great enthusiasm that he later went to fetch a broom, a bucket of warm soapy water, a scrub brush, and got to work.

Determined to do a job good enough to make the teacher proud of him, he pushed up the sleeves of his jumper and got busy. First, he placed all the chairs upended on the desks and then he swept the floor carefully. That done, he used the end of his ruler to pry loose the couple of spots of dried gum he had noticed stuck to the floor, and the pointy end of his compass to scrape out the cracks between the linoleum tiles. Then he swept a second time before starting to scrub with warm soapy water.

Severus glanced up occasionally from his lesson plans and watched while his student scrubbed the floor down on his hands and knees with a practiced expertise that was vaguely uncomfortable to watch. He hadn't expected that. He expected him to throw a tantrum or at least whinge about it being beneath him, and he certainly hadn't expected that the-boy-who-never-lifted-a-finger to know what a scrub brush looked like, let alone where to find one, or how to use it.

As soon as he had dismissed the class for morning recess, Harry was the first one out the door. After the rest of the children scampered out, Severus had started angrily toward the playground to drag his wayward student back in by the scruff of his neck, building up a raging temper with every step he took. Only to have the scorching reprimand freeze on his lips when he met Harry coming back up the hall from the janitor's cupboard dragging the cleaning equipment behind him. The cheeky brat even had the impudence to pretend to be 'happy' about it, greeting him with a cheery, 'Hi Sir! Don't mind me I'm just going to get to work on that floor now,' as he passed by.

He just knew he was up to something… but what?

"WHAT IS that infernal racket?" he finally demanded throwing his pen down in frustration. He couldn't stand it any longer. All morning there had been that blasted beeping and now, for the last twenty minutes, a barely audible noise that had gradually grown steadier and was now driving into his skull like a relentless mosquito.

The noise stopped abruptly when Harry looked up startled and replied, "Oh sorry Sir, I was just humming."

Aha! That was it! The boy planned revenge by slowly driving him insane. "Well stop it."

"Yes Sir, just about done anyway Sir." Harry said earnestly, dropping his brush in the water and standing up rubbing his knees. "The rest is about dry except for this part around your desk. So I'll put the chairs back down for now, since recess is about over, and then I'll do the wax during the lunch hour. I know you said just recess, but wax takes longer to dry than water and I don't think it'll have time during afternoon recess to dry good before I buff it. Unless I only do half of it today and half tomorrow, or I could stay after school, if you want, that is, and the floor looks clean enough to you. If it isn't, would you want me to scrub it a second time this afternoon, and then wax tomorrow?"

Harry finally quit rattling on and stood looking at him expectantly. In truth, after seeing how clean it was after Potter scrubbed it once, Severus had his doubts if the custodian had ever done more than give it cursory sweep since school started the prior fall. "It looks fine. Lunchtime is acceptable. Just no more humming," he grouched.

"Yes Sir! Anything you say Sir!" Harry grinned at the reluctant praise and started setting the chairs back down. He said it looked 'fine'! Aunt Petunia had _never_ said _anything_ that nice. She always found something wrong about which to complain. And Mrs. Krueger didn't seem to think he could do anything right either, because whenever he tried to help out, she would just look sad and tell him that he 'really didn't have to do that' and stop him from finishing. It was nice to feel appreciated for a change. By the time the rest of the kids came back the room was in order, cleaning supplies were put away, and was Harry back at his desk, sitting quietly with his head buried inside.

Severus stared at the upright desktop as the students returned and contemplated the puzzling child behind it. He just didn't get it. He couldn't imagine that they had schooled the heir to the Potter fortune in manual labour, or that they had ever forced him to do a chore in his life. His disgustingly doting relatives would have made him a pampered prince. Yet, he seemed to know exactly what to do, without asking questions, as if he had scrubbed hundreds of floors on a daily basis.

He had been prepared to demand that the child redo it, several times if need be, until he saw a marked difference in both the level of dirt and the boy's attitude. Only the blasted child had ruined his plans by changing the water frequently to prevent just moving the dirt around, and had thoroughly scrubbed and rinsed each square meter as he went. Pretending he thought that he would be beaten if it weren't perfect. Even without wax, the floor practically gleamed from cleanliness.

It was a conundrum. Then there was that nasty business about the belittling note from Mrs. Rose Krueger. Who were these Kruegers? Why did the Dursleys place him with them, when the Kruegers clearly thought so little of the boy? Perhaps the Dursleys finally realized that he had grown too bigheaded for them to handle, and turned him over temporarily to someone who could put him in his place when they could not. However, if it were only temporary ... then why change the child's last name? ...and why was the boy so touchy about it? Ridding himself of the name 'Potter' should have made him happy – or… perhaps the name didn't change. He wondered considering the scene the previous day. Questions, questions, questions - the longer he was here in Muggleville the more questions he had, and the fewer answers he got.

He begrudgingly agreed that perhaps Albus had a point in sending him here to watch his precious golden boy. Things were clearly not adding up. Nothing about the boy made sense and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He was not one of the foremost spies of the wizarding world for nothing.

When lunchtime came, he sat back and watched curiously to see what the boy would do. What Harry did was speed off for the supplies without even stopping to eat his lunch first. When he came back, Severus asked him why, as most children would have dawdled over food before they would deign to do a chore, the boy answered that he couldn't wax while he ate, but he could eat while the wax dried.

Logic, an unexpected anomaly, but certainly that logic hid an ulterior motive.

Then he watched as first the boy upended the chairs and swept the floor once again, then went over it entirely with a damp mop before carefully buffing it dry with clean rags in preparation for waxing. When the teacher questioned him as to why he swept and mopped again, when he had already done that during the morning, the boy had a ready answer. He said that since he hadn't been able to wax earlier and all the kids had walked on it since, he wanted to make sure to remove any of the dirt they'd tracked back in, and that the wax would bond better if the floor were completely dry.

Accountability, intriguing yes - but not when you knew it to be just another exhibition for his benefit, and therefore not to be trusted.

The boy then carefully lettered a sign stating 'Wet Floor Be Careful' and taped it on the outside of the classroom door. All potential victims of the slippery surface warned, he completed the job by expertly applying a thin even layer of wax.

Now he was pretending to be responsible. How insipid his deception grew. The brat must take him for a total idiot to fall for that ruse.

From across the room, like a warring island nation separated from its next conquest by a glossy sea of drying wax, Severus looked with hard narrowed eyes at the boy. Harry was now perched on his desktop, swinging his legs, munching on a sandwich, totally oblivious to the internal turmoil he was creating in his teacher.

'_Just look at him! Sitting there, looking to the world like an innocent child, instead of the scheming little brat he is.'_ At first, he was shuddered in revulsion, until slowly the inkling of an inspiration took root. _'With his natural leaning towards plot, intrigue, and deception, the boy must have an ambitious side to him as well. Wouldn't that be the ultimate revenge on my old nemesis? If Potter's son… his only child… were sorted into the house of snakes instead of the lion's den? What if…? Dare he think the unthinkable? What if… the boy-who-lived was sorted into Slytherin?' _

Harry was happy that he had finally pleased his teacher with the thorough job he had done. Mr. Nathraichean was actually smiling at him – at least he thought it was a smile… it was kind of hard to tell, but the corners of his mouth did seem to be just a tiny bit higher than his normal scowl, making almost a straight line.

Opting to take it as a sign of approval, rather than one of indigestion, he smiled back and waved shyly from his perch. It had been hard work and his muscles ached, but in a good way. He hadn't had to spend the hour hiding from Dudley and his gang, and he had gotten to eat his lunch in peace… not that he was all that hungry for it.

His lunch had been rather odd. The sandwich was a combination of ham and strawberry jelly, and they didn't really go all that well together. Nevertheless, it was filling, and he was not one to complain when it came to food, so he ate it anyway. The peanut butter biscuits weren't his favourites either, but they were okay. He lost his appetite completely when he pulled an orange out of the sack.

Normally he loved fresh oranges, they were a treat that he rarely got growing up, and he used to savour every segment when he got one. He even tried once to grow his own orange tree from the seeds. But his mummy… no, that's not right… _Mrs. Krueger_… had been giving him apples. Every morning she would say that an apple a day would keep the healers away, as long as his aim was true, and his feet were fast, and then she would laugh – a laugh filled with sunshine and music - and kiss the apple and put it in his sack. This morning, when he started to follow Mr. Krueger into the kitchen to get his lunch, he heard his uncles talking. They said he didn't get to have the apples anymore. Now they all belonged to Dudley too. They even called Dudley 'theirs'. Dudley was taking everybody he loved away from him. Dudley was right… he didn't have anything.

No longer hungry, Harry shoved the orange back into the sack, and decided the wax was dry enough to start buffing as it had begun to dull slightly. Hot from all the strenuous work, he pulled his jumper off over his head before hopping down off the desk and grabbing some soft clean rags. Putting all his pent up anxiety into buffing the floor, he worked at a rapid pace to bring it to a high gloss. He was so intent on his work and finishing before the lunch period was up, that he wasn't aware as he backed ever closer to the teacher's desk that he was now was practically under Mr. Nathraichean's feet.

"Watch what you are doing boy!" he growled suddenly, jumping up when Harry bumped into his chair, jarring his elbow causing him to upset the last of his coffee into his lap.

"You bumbling idi…" the angry words evaporated when he looked down to see the child curled up in a ball at his feet, as if he was about to strike him. Just moments before had been whistling while he worked (just as annoying but it was not humming) and now, he'd thrown his arms over his head to protect it, his t-shirt pulling up with the movement.

"Pot- Mister…_'Krueger'_... where did you get that bruise?" The words came out much harsher than he had intended, but the entire situation had taken him by surprise. He had guessed something was wrong, but this was not it. The split coffee was forgotten as the teacher's anger at the child, turned to anger at the child's caretakers, when he saw the shoeprint shaped purple bruise that was now uncovered in the centre of his bare back.

The bruise was large, swollen, and was not in a place or shape, that in any wild stretch of the imagination could have been either self-inflicted or an accident. A bruise that size belied the notion that there would not be others. The reaction he had felt that morning from Potter when he had recoiled at his touch now made sense. He had thought at the time that the spoiled brat must have just felt himself too good for a lowly teacher to touch him. It never occurred to him that the child was in pain.

Harry slowly uncurled, pulling his shirt down, and scooted away on his bum until his back pressed against the wall beneath the blackboard. His breath coming in short ragged pants. "What bruise?" he tried to deny.

"The one in the middle of your back," Severus said slowly. Did the child think he was blind as well as stupid?

"Oh… _that_ bruise." Harry thought quickly, he really hadn't paid it much mind after Dudley had quit kicking him, other than the sharp pain he had felt whenever his back touched anything, like his shirt, his hard wooden desk chair, or the teacher's hand. After scrubbing the floor, all of his muscles ached, so the persistent twinge he felt when he used his back ones didn't seem so bad now. In addition, if he told on Dudley, Dudley would tell on him. Maybe if he just said it was his own fault the teacher would drop it. "I-I was clumsy, I-I fell out of bed in my sleep."

"You fell out of bed, and in doing so, you obtained that shoeprint shaped bruise?"

Harry just nodded.

Incredulous at the pitiful excuse, Severus repeated for clarity. "You truly expect me to believe, that whilst in the process of falling out of bed, when you were in a dead slumber, that you managed to defy the laws of time, gravity, and bodily logistics. By putting on your shoes and contorting yourself to the point where you could kick yourself in the centre of your own back before you could hit the ground?"

"…er… yes?" Well, when you put it that way, it sounded lame even to him.

"As your teacher, I am required to report to the authorities any suspicion of abuse. Did one of your _'parents'_ do that to you?" From the size and shape of the print, he already knew it had to have been an adult male who had inflicted it, but the nasty note he had received from the mother was a form of abuse too.

When he saw Harry's green eyes, that looked so much like beloved Lily's, immediately grow large and fearful at the accusation, he tried being gentler, "Come child, it's all right. You can tell me. I _will _help you. You needn't be afraid. Was it your… _(ahem)_… 'father' or your 'mother'? Please child, I need to know."

"Oh no!" All the colour drained out of his face at the thought of anyone finding out about his parents being alive. They had sworn him to secrecy! If anyone found out too soon about the Kruegers or Uncle Siri still being alive, then Death Eaters would come! Then the Death Eaters would burn down their flat as they had Dudley's house! No no no! He couldn't let that happen! He had to save his family! He had to protect them at all costs!

He had to stop his teacher from saying anything to anybody, and that meant he had to tell him the truth about the bruise, even if Dudley _did_ get into trouble. Only that meant Dudley would just have even _more_ reason to beat him up, and then would probably also break his promise. He knew his cousin wouldn't even blink twice before he tattled on him to the Kruegers about his detention. It would ruin everything! He could see his last chance at having a home of his own disappearing before his eyes, but he would make that sacrifice willingly, if it would save his family from Death Eaters.

"NO, Mr. Nathraichean! NO! It wasn't anything like that at all! It was… Dudley!" he blurted out vehemently, "It was ALL Dudley! It wasn't my daddy! I mean it wasn't Mr. Krueger! Really it wasn't! He would never hurt me like that! He promised! It-it was Dudley! Please believe me! Dudley… he kicked me… but he does that all the time… but I'm really okay…. I am…. please… please don't tell anyone… it doesn't even really hurt… and I'm used to it… please… I will get into soooooo much trouble… it's supposed to be a secret… please… please… please… it really wasn't Daddy!... it wasn't..." he begged, his voice going softer and softer as his breath came shallower, and more rapid.

Severus knelt down in front of the shaking boy and tried to calm him. Discovery of the injury caused him to go into a panic attack, another sure sign of abuse.

'_What have these Krueger's done?'_ he raged furiously. The more Harry had protested that his adoptive father hadn't caused the bruise - the surer Severus was that it had been. When Harry hadn't been able to deny the existence of the injury, or claim it was an 'accident', he had immediately tried to deflect the blame to protect his abuser, another classic sign of child abuse.

He firmly believed that when adults lose their temper and leave marks on the children that they are supposed to be protecting, they should be accountable for their actions. However, at the same time, he didn't want to overreact without corroboration.

There might be more bruises concealed as the shoeprint shaped one had been, but a quick glance at the rest of the skin that he could see revealed no others. The only other things amiss were scrapes on the boy's elbows that he wouldn't have noticed except that the boy had taken off his jumper when he started working on the floor. He would have normally just chalked them up to playground antics, now he wasn't so sure - they were looking red and infected under the scabs. Obviously, they hadn't received treatment of any kind. He sighed – neglect - another sign.

He was tempted to haul the sobbing child down to the office that very minute and file a report with the proper authorities and be done with it, but he knew Albus would not approve of involving muggle law enforcement in the welfare of a magical child.

The magical world handled things differently and getting the muggle authorities involved would just muddle things up. Albus had reasons not to trust the Ministry, which housed the wizarding world equivalent of child protection services. The Ministry was far too political in their agenda, and having control over the saviour of the Wizarding world would be far too tempting a bargaining chip not to use. He couldn't turn to either the muggle or the magical authorities for help. Albus had sent him alone to protect the boy-who-lived and to make sure he continued to live. He just hadn't realized he would need protecting from someone other than Death Eaters, the Ministry, and his own ego.

This situation was rapidly turning into a real mess. However, all his years as a spy gave him the gut feeling that he didn't have the whole story, and he had learned to trust those instincts. Moreover, his experience as a master interrogator told him that he wasn't about to get it out of the boy in his current overwrought state.

His first action should be to make sure the boy was not in immediate need of medical treatment. From the colouring, he knew the bruise was new, and the size and placement warranted a closer look as there could also be serious internal harm.

Reaching towards Harry, he ignored it when the boy tried to shy away, and firmly took hold of his wrist. His pulse was strong and very rapid, but understandable considering his emotional state. The skin was cool, but not clammy. Listening to the boy's ragged breathing start to even out, he felt that his initial fear upon seeing the extent of the injury - that perhaps he also had a cracked or broken rib to go with the bruise – might have been hasty. In addition, he would have to surmise, that since the boy had worked like a machine for the past hour without outward signs of discomfort, added to the fact that he did not seem to have a fever, probably meant that he did not have internal bleeding from a damaged kidney or a ruptured spleen. He was relieved, but even at that, the bruise itself would take weeks to go away without the aid of magical treatment.

"Come, get up." He dropped the wrist and stood abruptly, a gentle bedside manner not being in his repertoire.

Rummaging in his bottom desk drawer he pulled out a jar full of thick yellow bruise-healing paste, and a small vial of calming draught. He found it best never to travel anywhere, including into Muggleville, without a ready supply of useful potions.

"I said - get up and come here," he demanded again, pointing to the spot directly in front of him. Harry knew a command when he heard one and hastened to comply before the teacher got any angrier with him.

"Drink this, and turn around." Severus said thrusting the vial in Harry's hand and then propelling him around with a hand on his shoulder before he could rethink what he was about to do. Lifting up the child's t-shirt, he applied a liberal coat of the salve to the ugly purple stain. Up close, it was even nastier than he had thought and the sharp outline of the large print left absolutely no doubt in his mind that an adult size shoe that had made it, not a child's one as Harry had tried to claim. The obvious bruise taken care of, he needed to ascertain if there were anymore that needed dealt with.

"Where else are you hurt?" Severus asked briskly, taking the no-nonsense approach that yes he was, and not giving him the opportunity to deny it further.

"My shoulder... a bit," Harry admitted softly, the calming draught loosening his tongue.

Lifting the shirt higher he found that there was another new fresh looking bruise on the same shoulder that he had clamped down on several times. Applying the salve to the second bruise, he berated himself. He had told the boy he did not hurt children. Then what had he done? He had hurt him without even realizing it.

No wonder the child was frightened of him, it certainly couldn't be anything else for children naturally loved him. At least that was a conclusion he had drawn years ago when he noticed that the urchins seemed to surround him wherever he went, even when he avidly tried to avoid them. He had to adopt an aloof façade just to get them to leave him alone occasionally. People who knew him however, would have been shocked to hear that was his viewpoint, and would have laughed their selves silly over the idea that he thought his aloofness was only a façade, when it was so much a part of who he was.

"You will need the salve reapplied each recess. Now - where else?"

"No… that's it."

"Really?" He raised his eyebrows at him in doubt, "Then what about your elbows?"

"Um… they're okay." Harry said rubbing at the sore scabs. "No big deal."

"Under what medical degree do you come to that diagnosis? They are infected. Infection can lead to blood poisoning, and ultimately to your death." he observed dryly as he pulled out a third container. "This will sting slightly," he said daubing at the red areas with a paste. It did hurt a little at first but as the sting lessened so did the tenderness. Then Mr. Nathraichean did something that cemented Harry's adoration of his grumpy teacher - he put bandages on them. Real bandages - just like Dudley got for his hurts! Not just an old piece of used sellotape, that hardly had any sticky left to it.

"You act as though you've never seen a bandage before," he remarked brusquely.

"I haven't… I mean I have… just not on me," Harry answered, confirming his teacher' suspicions.

"What do you mean - 'not on you'? Have you never had a scrape before?"

"Oh loads of times, but Aunt Petunia said I didn't deserve bandages if I was careless enough to get hurt to begin with." Harry didn't understand what it was he had done to deserve them this time, when he never had before. Not even Mrs. Krueger had given him bandages, even when he had asked for one. He eyed the teacher in a new light as he helped him to slip his jumper back over his head so that it didn't pull on the bandages, and then pulled down the sleeves to pad his elbows.

"And what about your cousin? Has he never had bandages either?"

"Dudley? Sure. He's had millions of them. He's even got one on his toe," Harry said with his eyes big and then leaned over conspiratorially and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but it really wasn't even a real blister, just mostly a red spot."

"And why should I not disclose this information?"

"Because, Dudley wouldn't like it, he's using it an excuse to get out of doing any chores."

"And I care about Mister Dursley reaction, why?"

"Because he kicks really _really _hard."

"Look me in the eyes, and tell me again how you got that bruise," he ordered playing a hunch. He had little doubt that the bruise had resulted from Potter acting up, and pushing his 'father' over the proverbial edge, not that that excused the use of retaliatory force. There was the possibility that in his shock at discovering it, he had blown it totally out of proportion, perhaps somehow Dursley had been the cause. Either way, he had to verify it, so he would know how to proceed. He thought in this instance, when it came to the welfare of her child, that Lily would forgive him for what he was about to do.

"Like I said, it was Dudley. Don't you believe me? Please… you have to believe me…" Harry pleaded as his eyes locked on Mr. Nathraichean's, the scene from that morning came to the surface, with startling clarity. Dudley taunting and kicking him from behind with a large hard sole shoe, while Harry tried ignore him while he worked on his homework at a low table.

'_Ha-ha! That's right! You're a loser! The teacher said you have to redo your homework in detention every day, until you get it right, and that means you'll be in detention the rest of your life because you're a stupid freaky loser who can't get anything right.' _

As the memory came back to him as if he were living it again, Harry broke eye contact and looked at his feet, ashamed of what he was. He would have liked to tell his teacher the whole story, but he just couldn't, he was too embarrassed.

Okay so it wasn't the adoptive father as he had thought. Severus was big enough to admit when he was wrong, when given overwhelming evidence to that affect, but that didn't mean he wouldn't keep an eye on the situation. The desperation in Potter's voice told him that something was still off, and the snippet of the scene that he had seen in the boy's mind, before he shut down, didn't reveal any adults present to put an end to his cousin's abuse. Making Harry's current guardians, in his mind still neglectful, and unobservant at the very minimum, hardly making them suitable to protect the saviour of the Wizarding world.

More and more he suspected that Albus Dumbledore already knew of the situation, and that was the true reason he had in sending him here to Muggleville. If that were the case, his only way out was going to be to getting to the bottom of it.

"I do believe you – about this instance. Now I would like to know what it is _you_ believe."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in return, backing away slightly while still looking down as if his old trainers were the most fascinating thing in the room. Mr. Nathraichean's stare made his feel very funny, as if he could see right into him.

"It seems to me your cousin can be quite spiteful at times. Tell me, do you know why I am having you redo your homework?"

"Because I'm a stupid freaky loser who can't get anything right," Harry parroted immediate without even thinking about it.

"And why do you believe that?"

"Because it's true," Harry said shrugging. "That's why nobody wants me," he added so quietly Severus almost missed it.

"And why on earth, do you believe that nobody wants you?" Severus was floored the boy thought so little of himself. He honestly could not think of a family in the entire wizarding world who wouldn't volunteer immediately to take the boy in, and make him a cherished member of their family, if given the half the chance. There would probably even be another war over who would get him.

"Because… because I don't have any potential…" Harry admitted sadly in a hiccuppy sob. "And I-I don't know how to get any, so they're going to send me away…" his voice trailed off as a glimmer of an idea popped into his head.

If he was going to prove to his family he was worthy, he would need help, a lot of it, and quickly. He couldn't go to his parents, they were the ones he had to please, and he couldn't go to his godfathers, they belonged to Dudley now. He most certainly couldn't ask the Dursleys either, even if they weren't on vacation. They would never help him. Laugh maybe, but not help.

Mr. Nathraichean was the only one Harry knew who didn't seem to like Dudley over him. He didn't seem to like anyone. Moreover, Mr. Nathraichean was probably the smartest person that was ever born. Therefore, if anyone knew how to get some potential, it must be his teacher. Mr. Nathraichean had also said he would protect him and not let anything hurt him, even if he had to throw himself on a fire to do it. In addition, he had made his bruises feel better, and even put bandages on his elbows. Maybe if he asked him real nice, he would help him out with something else too?

"You foolish boy," Severus snorted in his normal warm and cuddly way, "Just whom do you think is going to send you where, and why?"

"The Kruegers… they said if I don't get some potential then they're going to send me back to my Aunt and Uncle, and-and the Dursley's they don't like me very much, and-and I really want to stay with the Kruegers."

"This aunt… Petunia isn't it?" he drawled the name slowly in disgust as he remembered Lily's spiteful older sister from childhood, "Is this, the same aunt who does not believe in bandages unless they are on your cousin?"

Harry just nodded yes.

"And these…_'Kruegers'_… why would they be any better choice for guardians?" he asked cringing as he said the name. Obviously they were not suitable either, he judged thinking about the disparaging note that the mother had written, and the obvious lack of supervision from both 'parents', and he used the term loosely, that had resulted in Potter's bruises.

"Because, I love them with all my heart." Harry stated it simply with absolutely no trace of doubt in his voice.

"And do they love you?"

"I want them too…"

"But do they?"

"Maybe…"

"Maybe? If you're not sure, why do you want to stay with them?"

"Because… I love them so much, that I think I would die, if I had to leave them." Harry said raising his eyes to meet Severus' own. Looking at those large emerald eyes, bright with unshed tears, they were so like his dear Lily's that he could hear her voice in his echoing in his ears, playing back a conversation that was almost word for word the one he was having now with her son.

On graduation day, he had made one last try to win Lily's heart back from James. He had planned the moment for days, and then had sent her a note requesting she meet him under the weeping willow tree by the lake. He had waited for what seemed liked hours until she finally came. It was a lovely June night, the stars painting a brilliant canvas on the velvety night sky, but not nearly as bright as the radiant glow in her eyes.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"Of course I came. I would never stand you up." Lily said laughingly as she gave him a quick hug and brushed his cheek with a kiss. "Besides, I have some wonderful news, and I wanted to share it with my best friend."

"Wait Lily please, before you say anything, I need to do something before I lose my nerve," he said leading her over to a blanket spread out under the willow. After he seated her, he presented her with a bottle of perfume and a bouquet of tiger lilies, and then got down on one knee.

"Lily, I have loved you since we were children. You stole my heart the day we met as children on the playground, your light and your laughter have been my saving grace ever since. If you would consent to be my wife, I will do everything within my power to make you happy. Lily, I love you. Will you marry me?" he asked offering a small gold ring.

"Oh Sev…" Lily said with a catch in her voice, her eyes now filling with tears. "I love you too, but… not in that way. You have always been my best friend, you always will be. You showed me the world of magic, without you, I would have been lost and alone. You will always have a piece of my heart, a piece that will never belong to anyone else. But… I gave the rest of it to James. He asked me to marry him tonight. I said yes."

Lily took his hands in hers, closing over the ring that had grown cold in his fingers. It was then that her engagement ring sparkled as if one of the stars had fallen to earth to grace her finger.

"Do you love him?"

"Yes Sev, I do… very much."

"But does he love you?"

"Yes, I think so…"

"You just think so? If you're not sure, why do you want to stay with him?"

"Because… I love him. I love him so much, that I think I would die, if I he wasn't a part of my life." Lily said raising her eyes to meet Severus' own.

"But he's not good enough for you Lily," he pleaded for her to see reason.

"Please Sev… be happy for me. Be happy for us. I am going to marry James, but there is still enough room in my heart, and in my life, for you. Even James wants that. He wants you as a friend too. I don't want to lose you Sev. I don't think I could bear it."

"If I told you that you had to make a choice - him or me… who would it be?"

"Sev… don't do this."

"Choose Lily - Potter or me."

"Sev, I can't choose. You're both too important to me. I am marrying James, but I still want you to be a part of my life, a part of my family… I need you… please?"

"Choose."

She never answered him, but looking into those large emerald eyes, bright with unshed tears, he saw the truth. In that moment, he knew the life he wanted with her would never be.

Angry and jealous, he turned his back and without another word, left her sitting there alone. That was the last time he had looked into her eyes - until now. Now, here were those same eyes, in the face of this young child, Lily's child, looking at him with that same need for him to understand.

No matter how misguided he thought Lily's choice was, because he loved her, he knew he should have supported her decision. His heart had told him to go back to the lake and find her, and to apologize. He didn't want to lose her friendship either. She was important to him too. Nevertheless, his head was stubborn and refused to do what his heart wanted, and what followed was a cascade of bad decisions, resulting in the empty life he now lived. And now here was Lily's son, making a similar decision to hers, also possibly misguided, wanting to stay with parents who probably didn't deserve him in the least, any more than James Potter had deserved Lily.

If he didn't help her child, it would be as if he turned his back on Lily again. He had already failed her so many times, in so many ways, with never a chance to make amends. Now here was fate, handing him a second chance.

"… I think I would die, if I had to leave them." Harry had finished softly.

"Well then, we certainly can't have that, can we?"

"Then… will you help me Sir?" Hope lit up Harry's eyes for the first time in days.

"Yes, I will help you." Severus sighed, wondering what he was getting himself into now. Him and his foolish impulses, they will be the death of him.

"Promise? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

While Harry was completely unaware of the magical significance found in the simple muggle playground pledge, Severus was not. However, to his credit, this time he did not hesitate to go with his heart instead of his head.

"I do," he answered and then bristled when he had to endure a heartfelt hug to seal the promise. Feeling the surge of magic surround them, he knew the fates had recorded the vow. There was no backing out now.

"Off from me you insufferable child. I said I would help, I did not give you permission to maul me."

"Oh sorry Sir…" Harry said letting go and backing away just as the children started coming back in from lunch.

"We will continue this discussion during your afternoon detention." Severus replied briskly, "Now, put away those cleaning supplies, they are a hazard."

"Yes Sir!" Harry sung out happily as he scrambled to gather up the rags and brushes, ignoring the snickers of his cousin and his gang, and the jibes of 'loser' he passed by them on his trip to return the supplies to the janitor's cupboard. With his teacher's help, he wasn't going to be a loser anymore!

While the afternoon dragged for Harry, as he could hardly wait to get started on his potential, it sped by all too fast for Severus. Every time he glanced in Potter's direction, the irritating boy lit up like a Christmas tree. What had he done? Moreover, how in the world could he help Potter prove to his terribly unworthy muggle guardians that he had 'potential' when he had seen so little of it in him himself? If he pulled off that feat, he would indeed be teacher of the year.

As soon as the bell rang announcing the afternoon recess, Potter was back in front of his desk, fairly hopping from foot to foot with anticipation.

"Are you going to help me get some potential now?"

"Sit down Mister…_'Krueger'._ Unlike everyone else, I have absolutely no intention of mollycoddling you._" _Severus snapped at him.

"Yes Sir." Harry gulped and ran back to his desk quickly. This was not starting out well.

Severus sat there for a long time, with his fingers steepled, contemplating his student from across the room. After what seemed like eons to Harry, he took a deep breath, stood up, and wrote the word 'Potential' on the blackboard and underlined it.

"Potential, Mister…_'Krueger'_ is an adverb, from the Latin word _potentia. _It refers to a state of being a possibility, not an actuality. Therefore, it is impossible for someone to 'get' potential, as it is neither a service, nor goods."

"But- but you promised to help me!" Harry protested, all his built-up hopes deflating.

"And I will. However, to do that successfully, we need to do some investigative analysis first. For the results of the analysis to be of value, you must be completely forthcoming."

"What's that mean?"

"I will ask you questions and you will answer truthfully."

"Like twenty questions?"

"No, Mister…_'Krueger'. _As in, I will ask you as many questions as I deem necessary. Then you will answer each one, in detail, without holding anything back. Agreed?"

Harry thought about that very carefully. His parents had told him he had to be very cautious about what he said and did around muggles. However, as long as he didn't mention any of the things he's swore to keep secret, what could it hurt - besides maybe his pride, dignity, and self-respect? If he was careful, maybe he could even keep those. At this point, he had a lot more to gain than to lose. Finally, he nodded yes.

"Very well, let us get started. To begin with, we need to understand what you are actually trying to achieve, and I assure you 'getting' potential, is not it."

"But it is! It is! They said if I didn't develop any potential by Easter they were going to send me back! I don't want to go back! Please! You promised!"

"Ah, I see. It is not 'getting' potential that you actually wish to achieve, but rather 'developing' what is already there. In addition, there is a previously undisclosed time factor involved. That certainly sheds new light on this project."

"But-but that wasn't what I meant to say - I don't have any to develop! I need to _**get **_some! _NOW!_" he stressed desperately. He_ had _to make Mr. Nathraichean understand.

"Why is it that you believe that you do not already posses this 'potential'?"

Well, his pride didn't last long, he thought swallowing hard before he spoke up. "Because I'm a freak Sir, that's why. Freaks don't have any potential."

"You're a _what_?"

"A freak."

"And who told you that?"

"My aunt and uncle," he replied softly.

"Is this the same aunt who… oh never mind, I know it is." Severus said remembering back to the first time he and Lily got on the Hogwarts Express. Lily's older sister Petunia had come with her parents to see Lily off to school, but as the train pulled away from the station, Petunia had run after it shouting at their window, _'You're a freak!' _and Lily had cried all of the way to Hogwarts. Why Dumbledore ever thought… he shook his head to clear the memory, the answer to that question was a whole different story. He needed to get back to the matter at hand. "Do these…_'Kruegers'_ of yours hold the same opinion?"

"What?"

"Does your… _(ahem)_… 'family' call you by that despicable term as well?"

"No…" Harry hung his head in shame, "…they called me 'TFT'."

"TFT? I am not familiar with that acronym."

"It means 'the freaky thing'."

Severus was ready to boil over and hex the Kruegers and the Dursleys into the next millennium, but that would just land him in Azkaban. Instead, he took several deep breaths to calm down. It stood to reason, that Petunia would only turn the boy over to people with the same narrow-minded bigotry that mirrored her own. However, how could he possibly undo the damage now?

"Don't you realize that isn't a term loving parents would use to describe their child?" Severus asked, but from the look on Harry face, he already has his answer. He could see that he didn't realize that at all.

"Why not? It's true," Harry shrugged acceptingly. "I'm abnormal, that's what a freak is…"

Now was the time to see just how honest his answers will be. "You are? How so?"

Oh no! He wasn't supposed to say anything about magic! How can he explain without actually explaining? He was sure that Mr. Nathraichean wouldn't accept an 'I don't know' as a proper answer. Oh well, here went his dignity too…

"Er… I'm really clumsy. I'm always breaking everything…" (Not true, unless of course, you asked Dudley, and then it was.) "…and I'm shorter and skinnier then everyone else in my class - even the girls…" (Not so true anymore, with Lily's tender loving care he had shot up almost a centimetre a day.) "…and I'm kind of stupid, stupider than Dudley. He _always_ gets better grades than me…" (True, very, very true - the Dursley's didn't like it if he outshone Dudley, so he learned to purposely do as poorly on tests as possible.)

"Mister…_'Krueger'…_" Severus started pacing back and forth, as he started to lecture. "There are many definitions of the term 'freak'," he stopped and wrote it on the board next to 'Potential'. "F-R-E-A-K- The word can be used as either a noun or an adjective, but as you are using the word as interchangeable term for yourself, rather than as a description, let us limit this discussion to nouns. As a noun it can describe an object, an event, or even a life form that is highly irregular or deformed, it could refer to a whim, an addict, or even someone who is irrationally enthusiastic over something capricious such as Sherbet Lemons. Through deductive reasoning, we can rule out objects, events, and whims. That leaves irregular or deformed beings, and irrationally enthusiastic addicts."

"Do you have an abnormal addiction to Sherbet Lemons?" he whirled on Harry and pointed at him accusatorially with the chalk.

"Er…no?"

"Very good," he paced some more before whirling on him again. "Are all your bodily parts intact, and of adequate size, shape, and quantity?"

Harry did a quick mental inventory. As far as he knew, everything was there. "Er…yes?"

"Exceptional," Severus started pacing again. "Then we can logically deduce that you do not meet the criteria, for neither lack of dexterity, height, weight, or intelligence meets the accepted definition of a 'freak'. That leads us to the conclusion that your family is wrong." Severus looked at him narrowly, "Unless… there is something you are withholding."

"No Sir… there's nothing else." Harry said shaking his head.

Aha, so the boy was not going to be totally honest. Severus had felt the accidental magic on the playground, and he knew from the cousin's reaction, that it was not the first time. From the boy's file, he could deduce several instances where it had manifested itself during school. Living in a home that hates magic, it was probably even more frequent there. Severus was positive Harry's magic that had earned him that title, nothing else.

"Is that so? Until you are ready Mister…_'Krueger',_ to be totally forthcoming, as per our agreement, this lesson is over," he announced going to the board and erasing the words.

"_**NO!**_" Harry shouted at him, pounding his fists on the desk.

"Are you willing to rethink your answer young man?"

Harry firmly shut his mouth and crossed his arms. He would not betray his family, no matter what, even if it meant losing them.

"Fine, then we shall start on your vocabulary lesson. The first word is 'pretence', quite apropos, considering. Describe the word, unless you desire to fail at this as well."

"It's a noun." Harry answered back angrily.

"Pouting does not become you Mister…_'Krueger'. _However, that is correct. Etymology?"

"Er… English?"

"Incorrect. It is Middle English, more precisely an adaption of the Medieval Latin '_pretension'. _Definition?"

"It's like when you are pretending that something is real and it's not."

"Close, but still incorrect. It is a claim either made or implied, not supported by fact. For example - your relatives alleged that you were a freak. As we so succinctly proved, that claim was not factual. Therefore, that claim was pretence, a façade. You must be very careful when people, especially those that hold positions of power over you, use pretence to serve an agenda."

"What does that mean?" Harry was curious even though he was still mad at his teacher.

"It is human nature to present facts and events in a way to support your own ideals. Do not take anything at face value. Do your own research. Look for the pretence. Then make informed decisions whether to believe and whether to follow. Do you understand?"

"I think so…" he answered thoughtfully. " You're saying that not everybody tells the whole truth the whole time."

"Correct Mister…_'Krueger'._ I want you to think about that tonight and for tomorrow's lesson, we will discuss the vocabulary words 'duplicity' and 'bona fide'. In addition, I want you to bring me a list of at least three things that you do better than your cousin."

"But I don't do _anything_ better than Dudley! I can't!" Harry protested, in his mind adding, _'…because if the Dursley's find out I did, when I go back I'll be in big trouble!'_

Severus said nothing. Instead, he pondered his pupil from across the room silently, allowing Harry's remark echo in his ears.

From his own childhood, he was well aware that when you repeatedly hear something negative about yourself, you tend to believe it true, no matter how groundless it might be. From his recent observances of Potter's behaviour, he was beginning to believe that perhaps their childhoods were sadly, not all that different.

He must think of some way to get the obstinate child to overcome this training or he would never stand a chance against the Dark Lord, should he indeed rise again. It went against his nature to encourage the Gryffindor traits of pride and pigheadedness over the superior Slytherin ones of cunning and cleverness, however in this instance, appealing to the James Potter in him might be the most expeditious path to follow.

"And why do you believe that Mister…'_Krueger'_?"

"Because Aunt Petunia said…"

"Stop! Enough said you idiot child," he sneered condescendingly holding up his hand to stem back the tide of Harry's words. It was a calculated risk, but he plunged ahead.

"I do not know why I am bothering, as you have forgotten our lesson on pretence already, proving once again, that your ability to learn is no better than that of a rock. Moreover, rocks know how to sit still without fidgeting. Perhaps these 'parents' of yours are correct, and you have no potential to develop?"

The teacher's words struck Harry speechless. Wasn't he going to help? But- but… he had to! He just had to! He promised!

Severus had doubts about continuing when Harry went pale, but he was betting on the 'Pigheaded Potter' factor being strong enough to get the boy through it, so he pushed on relentlessly. Waiving his hand dismissively at him he announced, "This is an exercise in futility. Get. Out. Of. My. Classroom." he enunciated slowly, every word cutting deeper.

"No please Sir! Don't give up on me too!" Harry pleaded, finding his voice again.

"Why shouldn't I, Mister… no… you don't deserve even that. 'Mister' denotes a modicum of respect. I have no respect whatsoever for someone who wastes my time. It is ... just '_Harry_' … the one-name wonder, the resident celebrity." Severus mocked him. "It's not that you can't. It's that you won't. You believed you're entitled. You believe that you don't have to lift a finger. Don't you?"

"No I don't." Harry denied softly.

"I believe that you do. You think that everyone should just hand you whatever you desire on a silver platter. Well ... just _'Harry',_ it appears that fame isn't everything, as I have no intention of pandering to a little coward who refuses to put any effort into it."

"No, I remember! I do! I do! It was to not believe everything I hear… right Sir?" Harry begged, sacrificing his self-respect as well. "Please… I am right… aren't I?"

"Yes. You are correct again, Mister…_'Krueger'_. I want that list tomorrow, or don't bother coming to class," he said with smug satisfaction, smiling to himself on the inside, while on the outside his face was as deadpan as ever.

'_Slytherin tromps Gryffindor once again. One hundred points for me - zero for Potter.'_

Until the final bell rang, dismissing school for the day, Severus blatantly ignored the dark haired boy in the back of the room who was throwing visual daggers at him. His aim was something else that Potter would have to work on improving, if he intended to do any damage. For as far as he was concerned, Albus' golden boy would get no free pass from him. To use a fitting colloquialism, If Potter can't stand the fire, than he had no business being in the kitchen. He had asked for his help, and he would get it, but he would get it how he saw fit to serve it to him, and that would not be à la carte.

After following Potter and his cousin safely home, which was a quick trip seeing as Dursley chased Potter the entire way, Severus decided it was time to report to the Headmaster - in person this time. From his hidden observation spot across the street, Severus turned on the spot and apparated to Hogsmeade, mere seconds before James Potter stuck his head out of the upstairs window and called down for Harry and Dudley to come upstairs.

"Hallo boys! Come up here a minute, will you? We've got something to talk to you about." After the four adults had spent the better part of the day moving the majority of Dudley's things to the loft, the ground floor looked conspicuously empty. Lily was still worried about traumatizing Dudley further, so they decided it would be easier on Dudley, if when he first came in, he saw that all of his things were still there.

Dudley huffed to a stop at the stoop and glared up at the window, but before he could protest, his uncle had already disappeared back inside. "He's got to be kidding! I just ran all the way from the school and now he wants me to do stairs too?"

"What's the matter Dud? Got another blister?" Harry smirked as he took off up the outside stairs, taking them two at a time, just to show off.

"Don't call me that!" Dudley yelled out as he took off after him in a rage.

"Try and stop me!" Harry reached the landing, but when he saw Uncle Siri's flat overstuffed with boxes upon boxes of more of Dudley's things, he came to an abrupt stop at the doorway, causing Dudley to crash into him from behind, so that they both ended up in a heap of arms and legs at James' feet.

"Wotcher! You both alright?"

After untangling himself, Harry quickly checked in his book bag to make sure the egg was sound. He could feel that the little creature inside the egg was still okay, and was more worried about him than it was for itself. Actually, the creature was getting used to the frequent roller coaster rides it was getting, knowing that Harry was doing everything he could to protect it. Breathing a sigh of relief he answered with a 'yes we're both fine'. This earned him a curious look from his cousin, who didn't feel at all fine, and didn't appreciate his freaky little cousin answering for him.

"NO, I'M NOT!" Dudley protested loudly. "I AM MOST DEFINITELY **NOT** FINE!"

"What's the matter Dudley?" James asked concerned, and started to kneel down next to the still prone boy to check and see if all his limbs were still bendable.

"Hey there Prongs, remember that one's ours. You have one of your own to damage." Sirius quipped walking in from his bedroom and seeing his new charge on the floor. Pulling Dudley to his feet, despite his ear splitting objections, Sirius held him tight so he couldn't escape as Remus waved his wand in their direction to run a diagnostic spell.

"Well it's not his lungs, but he's right Padfoot, he is not fine." Remus announced as he read the results. "Just look at these blood glucose and cholesterol levels! In a boy his age too, it's shameful. Didn't you eat the lunch we packed for you Dudley?"

"Eat that garbage - peanut butter and cheese on pumpernickel? Yuk! I got rid of the whole stinky thing. I traded it for jelly doughnuts." Dudley announced pulling a face.

"If it was so bad, how come anyone traded for it?" Remus asked disappointed. He knew the sandwiches looked a little odd this morning. But... not liking peanut butter?

"I told Malcolm if he didn't, he couldn't play with my Game Boy," Dudley said smugly, proud of his negotiation tactics.

Sirius frowned at him. Maybe this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought it would be. "What about the apple? I thought you liked apples, you're always eating Harry's."

The two men had stayed up until the wee hours that morning plotting a strategy for their new charge. One goal they'd set was to encourage physical fitness. They took a hint from hearing Lily tell Harry every morning that an apple a day would keep him healthy. So to give Dudley an initial boost in that direction, it was Sirius' idea to spike the apple with a special potion to suppress his craving for unhealthy snacks, and boost his appetite for healthy foods. As Sirius' memory was rather short term these days, it hadn't occurred to him that Dudley's might be a tad longer, and that he may now harbour ill will towards the shiny red fruit.

Harry witnessed the discussion going on with a pang of jealously. They had given his apple to Dudley just because they thought he liked them. If they had bothered to ask, he could have told them that Dudley only liked apples that belonged to someone else. After his initial greeting, his uncles had been too busy struggling with his cousin, and his dad had been too busy being entertained watching them struggle, that none of them even noticed when he started to slip away. He was almost out the door when Dudley placed all the men's attention squarely on him, but not in the way that Harry had wanted.

"Oh, I tossed that in the bin, there's was no way I was going to let _him_ poison me like that again." Dudley said pointing an accusing finger at Harry, who since he was in the process of sneaking out at that very moment, had a very guilty look on his face.

"He tricked me into eating one with a worm in it and then mum got really upset when I sicked them up at her dinner party. She yelled at _me_ and everything!" After he had gotten over his initial revulsion to the wigglers, he had thought it was a way cool ability. Until his mum sent him to his room before she served the pudding that is. Dudley's eyes were growing big and round in his pudgy face, as he thought about the injustice of it all.

His parent's had promised him a new toy if he dressed up for the dinner and greeted their guests. The suit was too tight, and he was very uncomfortable, but he had still done it. However, after the dinner guests had run screaming out the door without giving his dad a sale, his parents didn't buy him the promised toy. Worst of all – NO pudding! He was still shocked at the memory. He had told them that it was Harry's fault, and they did believe him immediately. Nevertheless, they were also upset, that even after warning him to be careful, that he had still gotten close enough that his cousin had contaminated him by all his freakishness. They actually _blamed_ him! It wasn't his fault that his back-from-the-dead aunt and uncle hadn't taken the freak and moved away, and that he was still there in his class to annoy him daily with his freaky face.

"But that wasn't me! I swear it wasn't! I don't know what happened to the apple." Harry was fearful that once again he would get the blame. All he could hope for now was that Dudley would shut up soon. However, Dudley was never one to shy away from excess.

"**IF YOU DIDN'T DO IT, THEN HOW COME THE TEACHER GAVE YOU DETENTION UNTIL YOU DROP DEAD FROM LYING - YOU STUPID FREAK!**" Dudley screamed at him, growing red in the face, and stomping his feet.

Three pair of eyes ignored Dudley's exhibition, and instead locked their eyes on Harry as all the colour drained out of his face. They know! His stomach felt as if he was about to sick up worms himself. Then the most wondrous thing happened - all three men burst out laughing – and not one of them seemed upset at him! Of course, that made Dudley all the redder in the face, when he noticed it too.

Remus was the first to get control of his laughter and he winked and smiled reassuring at Harry, "Don't worry. We know the apple wasn't your fault."

"You do? How?"

"Let's just say we have our ways, okay?" Remus said with a chuckle before turning back to Dudley and saying sternly, "No more trading your lunch young man."

"You're not the boss of me!" Dudley sneered at him nastily.

"Oh yes he is." James said with great satisfied, and then qualified, "Until your parents are back that is. Remus and Sirius are going to be in charge of you."

"What!" Dudley's jaw dropped in shock. "Mummy and Daddy aren't going to like this!"

"Your mummy and daddy don't have a lot of say in it right now. I'm still working, and your aunt has too much to do, what with the baby being so young. She can't keep watch over three children by herself. So the guys here offered to help out, and we accepted."

Seeing the top of his Aunt Lily's head coming up the circular staircase, Dudley switched tactics, stuck out his lower lip, and started to wail pitifully. "But why m-m-meeeeeee?"

"Oh! The boys are home. I thought I heard them up here. Um…is everything all right?" she asked as Dudley launched himself at her, and hugging her about the waist, and started sobbing as if his heart was about to break into a thousand put-upon pieces.

"Top notch Lils!" Sirius replied cheerfully, "Prongs just broke the news of our new arrangements to our little neffy-poo-out-law here. He's just expressing his utter delight with the situation, that's all."

"That's all? He's distraught!" Lily glared at the three laughing men while she tried to comfort the crying boy. "James! I asked you to wait. I wanted to tell him gently."

"Sorry. It just came up," he shrugged. He didn't feel too apologetic when he noted the shrewd timing between Dudley's outburst of inconsolable bawling and Lily's appearance.

"Dudley honey, come over here for a minute," Lily said leading him by the hand over to a small ratty settee with a broken spring and a missing cushion, that Sirius had salvaged from an alleyway two blocks over that very morning. It was the only spot available to sit on now that the comfy couch was back downstairs. The flat was supposed to have been furnished, but when the Dursley's had moved out, Vernon had complained so long and so loud over the flat being infested with all manner of unspeakable vermin, that the landlord had already disposed of most of the furniture in the flat before Remus stepped in, bought the building, and kept the rest.

Remus had intended to get a few new pieces to replace those that the old landlord had discarded, but it never seemed as important as spending every available minute with his reunited family. However, he regretted that he hadn't at least purchased a new couch when he noticed Lily start to sit on the broken spring. Sirius noticed him sending a quick '_Reparo' _her way, and jumped over to push a pillow behind her, to replace the missing cushion, just as she leaned back. They were so grateful that she had graciously welcomed them into her family that they felt like protective older brothers. So noticing her looking exhausted the last few days, they vowed not to add to it.

As soon as his godfather's attention was off from him again, Harry slipped from the room. He'd seen enough, the way they were all fawning over Dudley made him feel ill.

Settling down Lily pulled Dudley down beside her and looked at him tenderly. He was really just a scared little boy and hadn't had a fair chance to show his best side, and she just knew there _had_ to be one in him _somewhere_. If she just kept looking, she thought optimistically, sooner or later she was sure to find it.

"Dudley, I'm sorry if this arrangement came as a surprise to you." Lily waved a hand to silence James when he snorted in protest at her apology. "But I haven't been feeling very well, and with three active children in the house, it's just been a little much for me to keep up with. So while you're here with us, your Uncle Remmy and Uncle Siri are going to make sure you get the attention you need. But I don't want you to think in any way that you that you can't come to me and your Uncle James too."

"So what's goin' on with my stuff? Why's it up here?" Dudley whinged and tried to look pitiful. This ought to be good for at least two computer games and extra dessert for a week! "And… where am I gonna eat? And... where am I gonna sleep? Don't-don't you… _(sniff – sniff)…_ don't you _love _me anymore Auntie Lily?"

Lily shot James an I-told-you-so look.

James just snorted again and looked sceptical.

"Of course I do Dudley! You will be sleeping right where you were, downstairs in your bunk bed. It's just that there isn't as much room down there for all your things as we thought there would be, so we brought most of your toys up here. Harry and Holly both like coming up here to play, so I am sure you will too," she added encouragingly.

"That's right Duddy, just think of my loft as one big play room. You were saying at brekki that the reason you couldn't keep your things neat was because you needed a room just for your toys, well now you have one. Now you can be as neat as a pin! Problem solved. What's mine is yours," Sirius chimed in, grinning widely and spreading his arms wide to demonstrate, curiously eyeing the intriguing 'telly' now ensconced on his table and wisely not voicing the rest of his thought of _'and what's yours is now mine.'_

Dudley whinged and sniffed a few more times before he realized that none of the adults seemed to be affected by it, and none of them were offering him bribes to go along with their decision. In the end he was left pouting in the care of his new 'uncles' while his Auntie Lily and Uncle James deserted him to go find his freaky little cousin.

They found Harry in his bedroom sitting on his own bed which was back in his own familiar spot near his window with own bright green coverlet and his own soft pillow. Harry was hugging his stuffed stag and looking around amazed and confused. Except for Dudley's bunks which were now pushed over to the side where Holly's crib and changing table used to be, and one shelf of the two-shelf bookcase that held a few of his toys, there was no outward sign of Dudley. All his boxes and junk were gone. Even Harry's clothes were back in the dresser. He felt like he could breathe again.

"Better?" James paused at the doorway and asked softly.

"But… but… Dudley… he'll get mad… he needs all his stuff."

"Dudley will be fine." James assured him. "He doesn't need all that to sleep. In fact, he will probably sleep better and more rested without it in the room to distract him. What matters most to us, is that you will too. After all, this is your room."

"It is?" Harry looked at them unsure.

"Absolutely!" Lily said sitting down next to him and giving him a big hug. "We never meant it to seem otherwise, and we should have consulted you about our plans first. So… is it okay if he shares it for a little while? It'll be just a week or so at the most. Why by Easter, I'm sure you'll both have your old rooms back exactly like they were."

Lily's words both comforted him and struck terror into his heart.

"What about Holly?"

"We put her crib in our room. She'll sleep with us in the meantime."

"Oh." Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. He liked her near him so he could take care of her. However, he supposed it was for the best, this way she could get used to him not being around anymore when he had to go back to the Dursleys.

"So is it okay? About Dudley sharing with you?"

"I guess," he shrugged. He didn't know why they kept asking, as he didn't think he really had a choice, but he still felt like he had gotten a prize when she smiled at him gratefully.

"Now that that's settled Son… tell us all about this detention." James said sitting down on the other side of him and draping an arm over his shoulder before he could escape.

"Er… it was nothing really," he answered, his stomach immediately tying up in knots.

"Nothing? Dudley said something about you lying to the teacher?"

"Well… yeah… but I didn't! Lie that is, but the teacher thought I was."

"So tell us about it. I promise we'll understand."

"You will?"

"That's right Harry," Lily assured him with a smile. "Your father is an _expert_ on serving detentions. Between him and your godfathers they hold the Hogwarts record for earning the most in one day."

"And don't forget the overall total in one year record, the greatest number of consecutive earned record, and the pièce de résistance - the lifetime achievement award for the most ever earned in a school career," James said with obvious note of pride. "Sirius and I both hold that. We tied."

"Uh… James, I don't think the Headmaster would ever give out a lifetime achievement award for that, it would just be… soooooo wrong."

"Yes he did! That's what we got in place of diplomas," he said smugly totally ignoring Lily's look of disapproval. "So c'mon Harry… give!" he cajoled playfully poking him in the ribs. "Tell your old man, what happened? And don't leave anything out!"

Now that they knew, he thought maybe he better tell his side of it, it couldn't get any worse anyway. Harry took a deep breath and launched into a detailed account of the 'Apple Affair'. By the time that he was finished, James was rolling on the floor laughing with delight, while Lily was admonishing him to keep it down or he'd just encourage them to continue playing pranks on Dudley. Even though she had a smile playing around her lips, Harry was relived he wasn't the one she was shaking her finger at.

"Ha-ha! Too late! They already started!" James continued to laugh. "They spiked Dudley's lunch apple today too! Ha-ha-ha!"

"So… is that why I didn't have my apple today?" Harry asked shyly thinking of the orange he had dejectedly crammed in his book bag next to the egg. Maybe Dudley hadn't completely stolen his godfathers away from him.

"You got it in one. They thought that Dudley liked apples and would be sure to eat it, and we only had one left this morning, so I picked some more up at work today. Hey! You didn't think they gave it to Dudley just because they liked him better, did you?" James asked, but one look at Harry's face told him that was exactly what he had been thinking.

"No, not really… well, kind of… I guess…"

James gave him a big hug and said thoughtfully, "You know Harry… with this new arrangement your godfathers are going to be spending a lot of time with Dudley, so it might seem like that to you for a while. It doesn't mean that they don't still love you. In fact, they are only taking care of Dudley for us, because they _do_ love you, very much. You see, they were worried about you, so they came up with the idea of taking Dudley off our hands as much as they could. They thought maybe this way it would give you a little time without Dudley always being there. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So James... what are we going to do about his teacher? Do you think we should talk with him? I don't like Harry being blamed for something he didn't do." Lily asked.

"I don't think there is much we can do Lily. Being a muggle - I can see where he misunderstood what was happening. I don't know how we would straighten it out, without telling him about magic. I'm afraid Harry will just have to do the time, even though he didn't do the crime."

"That's okay… I like having detention!" At the curious looks that got from his parents, Harry hurried to come up with an explanation that didn't involve him telling them about his 'Potential Lessons'. "I mean… at least if I'm inside in detention, where Mr. Nathraichean is watching me, Dudley won't be bothering me and eating my lunch."

"Well that's a way to look on the bright side." Lily smiled encouragingly.

Harry was a lot happier after their talk. He didn't even take it wrong when his godfathers sat on either side of Dudley at the table and supervised what went on his dinner plate, and how fast he ate it (much to Dudley's displeasure). Neither of the two men had been in charge of a child before, and when given half the chance, both were prone to go overboard with new projects. Harry even smirked secretly and exchanged knowing looks with Mr. Krueger, when Mrs. Krueger served Dudley a baked apple and Dudley pushed it away, looking a little green. It was the first time Harry had ever seen his cousin refuse pudding. Then he smirked outwardly and peeled his orange with great delight, when his godfathers kept pushing the apple back in front of Dudley until he ate it.

Harry's biggest satisfaction came after dinner, when he settled down cross-legged in front of the coffee table to work on the list for his teacher, and his godfathers spied Dudley trying to slink unnoticed out of the room.

"Hey Dudley why don't you bring your homework here too, and we can help you with it." Remus invited.

"Don't got any it's just the fr… um… _Harry_ who has to do homework, the rest of us are already smart e'nuf. I'm going to go play on my computer." Dudley shrugged and started for the circular staircase.

Harry stared after him. Oh really? Then what about…

"But we thought we'd spend some family time this evening. If you don't have homework, then why don't you play with something down here instead?" Remus persisted.

"Duh! Because the computer is upstairs, you should know - you put it there." Dudley said rolling his eyes and twirling his finger around his temple as if to say Remus was slightly barmy.

"What about that whatchmacallithingamabob? You know - that toy James let you take to school today to share at recess. What did you call it - a Game Boy? You could play with it down here and show us how it works. Go get it."

Harry tried to hide his grin. This should be interesting…

"Um… can't." Dudley stopped part way up the stairs and turned a little red.

"Why not? It looked like fun. We could all take turns. Make a little competition out of it."

"...idonthaveitanymorethatswhy…" Dudley growled to his feet.

"What was that?" Sirius asked starting to get interested in something other than blowing kisses on Holly tummy to make her giggle.

"I DON'T HAVE IT ANYMORE THAT'S WHY!" Dudley shouted back at him.

"No need to shout Duddy, we can all hear perfectly fine." Sirius said easily, picking up Holly and tucking her under his arm then sitting back to study his charge, "What happened to it?"

"ASK HARRY! **IT'S** **ALL HIS FAULT!"** Dudley shouted, pointing at Harry.

"Me?"

"YES YOU!" Dudley glowered at him and added meaningfully, _"Remember - Cuz?"_

"Remember? Oh yeah…. I _remember_ what you're talking about – _Dud."_ Harry remembered quite well how his cousin was blackmailing him into doing whatever he said, in return for keeping quiet about Harry's detention. He also remembered quite well how Dudley didn't keep up his end of the deal. It turned out okay for Harry. It was just too bad for Dudley that he didn't remember that small slip-up himself.

"Then tell 'em… tell 'em how it's _all your fault_."

"Are you really really _REALLY _sure you want _me_ to tell?"

"Yes. Tell 'em! Go on!"

"Okay. See it was entirely _my _fault because…" Harry watch Dudley out of the corner of his eye to relish in his reaction "…Dudley was playing with his Game Boy instead of doing his reading. Our teacher almost caught him but Piers warned Dudley he was coming so he hid it under his shirt. Mr. Nathraichean knew he wasn't paying attention anyway and assigned him one hundred lines to write tonight. Then Piers wanted to play with the game for saving Dudley, but Dudley was mad he got lines to do and wouldn't share. So the next time Mr. Nathraichean noticed him goofing off, Piers didn't warn him and Dudley got caught and mouthed off so Mr. Nathraichean took his toy away and said he wasn't ever getting it back because it beeped." Harry finally took a breath.

"It beeped did it?" Sirius asked trying not to laugh.

"Yes. He'd been hearing it all day long and kept trying to find what was making the beep and couldn't find it. He said it was 'abominably annoying'." Harry nodded noticing with glee that Dudley's mouth was hanging open in shock that Harry actually told on him and worse yet, that… all the adults looked like they _believed _him.

"Well… _(ahem)…_ that would be annoying." Sirius agreed doing his best to keep a straight face. "So Dud-dude… what about those lines? You better get to work on them don't you think? How about you do them at the kitchen table while Remus and watch?"

"Oh joy." Dudley growled as he stomped back to the table.

Dudley had fully intended to show his contempt for the assignment by just typing the line once into his computer and then printing it out a hundred times. Instead, he ended up having to write it more than five hundred times because Sirius would proof read it and it he found anything wrong with his spelling or neatness he would have Remus erase it with his wand and make Dudley do it over until it passed inspection. Harry was finished with his homework, had taken his bath, and tucked in bed sound asleep long before Dudley's homework was pronounced to be satisfactory.

"Now are you happy? My hand is all cramped up! I won't be able to use it for days!" Dudley whinged pitifully.

"That's just because you haven't used it enough for writing, with practice you'll be able to write that much without any problem at all." Remus said wisely.

"Practice? I'm not writing any more lines!"

"Duh! Sure you are Dudley," Remus said patronizingly twirling his finger around his temple as if Dudley wasn't too bright. "Tomorrow night you will write 'I will not lie to my uncles about not having homework.' Let's see, another one hundred lines ought to do it. What do you think Padfoot?"

"That would be fine, but let's make it fifty of that and fifty of 'I will not blame my mistakes on my cousin Harry'."

"I won't do it!"

"Says you, we on the other hand, think you will," Sirius taunted back and then nodded at the wand Remus was carelessly twirling between his fingers. They wouldn't really use it on him, but he didn't have to know that.

"YOU'RE ALL FREAKS!"

"Yeah - ain't it grand?" Sirius smirked.

Dudley protested loudly about the unfairness of it, all through his bath and teeth brushing (Sirius 'helping' him because of his 'crampy hand' and tut-tutting away his refusal of help and objections that he could do it on his own), right up to the tucking in ceremony.

When they put him to bed, he was suddenly quiet. James having a good idea by now, that a quiet Dudley was a plotting Dudley, wisely intervened and cast a spell, drawing a magical line through the middle of the children's bedroom, effectively making a barrier between his sleeping son and his troublemaking nephew.

"If you cross this line while Harry is asleep, I'll know it," he warned. "Now shut your eyes, it's time you were asleep too." James started to tuck him in but Sirius stopped him.

"Prongs stop! That's our job." Sirius said pushing him out of the room. James went back to join Lily in their own bedroom, shaking his head over the deep baritone and tenor duet version of _'Rock-a-bye Baby' _his two friends had come up with.

_Rock-a-bye Dudley, in the top bunk  
Aren't you glad now, it's not covered with junk?  
When the clock strikes, you best be asleep  
for tomorrow's a new day, and pranking can't keep!_

"OKAY! OKAY! I'M IN BED. NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" they heard Dudley yell.

_(Indistinct murmuring) _

"FINE! THEN GET OUT OF _**HARRY'S**_ ROOM! JUST GET OUT!"

_(Indistinct laughing)_

"Don't worry Lily, they mean well. And really, how much damage can they do in just a few days?" James asked turning off the light. "Besides, Dudley's young, he'll live."

Lily just smiled and snuggled down into the crook of his arm. "I know."

She didn't doubt that Dudley would survive the two men smothering him with their special brand of attention. They wanted to prove her trust in them wasn't misplaced. What she wondered was if Dudley would still be the same at the end of it. She was hoping that he wouldn't. Watching Remus and Sirius take care of their 'charge' all evening erased all her lingering doubts. It was an excellent idea. Between the clearly observant Mr. Nathraichean during the day, and the excessively inquisitive duo at night, there was very little that Dudley was going to be able to get away with.

Holly on the other hand was getting away with absolutely everything. She was a very happy baby and had happily wrapped all the men in the household right around her tiny little finger. So seldom was it that someone was not picking her up, carrying her, or cuddling her, it was a wonder she was even learning to roll over. Lily had to laugh - when Holly is old enough to date, the Marauders will all have heart attacks!

That just left her one sad serious little boy over whom to worry. She turned over and punched down her pillow, for worrying she was. Harry still hadn't called her mummy again, but she did think she saw him smile several times tonight and he hadn't done that in several days, at least not since those two nitwits brought that egg home. At least they had made a little progress towards undoing the damage they had done to him with their well-meaning parenting. Now if they could just find a way to get rid of that egg…


	9. A Patchwork Egg: part 4

All night long Lily dreamed repeatedly about the egg hatching. Every time it did, it hatched into a larger and larger dragon. So when Harry showed up at breakfast still carrying his book bag with the egg it, Lily was actually relieved to see it for once. Nevertheless, even knowing that the egg still fit in the bag, and hadn't grown overnight to the size of a bludger, didn't quell the queasy feeling in her stomach.

Lily greeted him brightly with a cheery good morning that hid her worry, but Harry just slid into his chair with his head down and only gave a quiet 'morning' in return.

"Not quite awake yet sweetie? Are you feeling all right? You're usually the first one up."

"…hmmrmph…" he mumbled through his toast. On the contrary, he had been wide-awake for over two hours but true to his resolve to be a Dudley he hadn't done anything other than loll in bed and think. Of course, he didn't know if Dudley actually ever thought for that long a period at one time, or even if he thought at all when he lolled in bed.

However, Harry had to do _something _when he was just lying there in bed or he knew he'd go crazy. Pulling the egg out of its cocoon, he balanced it in his belly button and gently rubbed its shell. The little creature on the inside seemed to be almost purring with the attention. He could tell she was growing stronger every day, and right now was relaxed, happy, and sending him contented vibrations through the touch.

Looking around the room, he was amazed that he could actually breathe in it again. Harry still wasn't sure what had happened the day before. Had the Krueger's just gotten fed up with the mess? He knew he sure had. He didn't understand how Dudley could live like that every day, but he did. His rooms back at Privet Drive were always cluttered and sloppy. The only times they were neat as a pin was when Aunt Petunia made him clean them up for Dudley just before Aunt Marge would come to visit (of course he couldn't possibly do it himself). Then Aunt Marge would fawn all over her neffy-poo and praise him for being such a good tidy boy, and then tell Harry derisively that was why he lived in a cupboard – because he wasn't responsible enough to take care of a real room. Aunt Marge didn't think he was responsible enough for anything.

"I wondered what Aunt Marge would say if she could see me now. I'm in real room, in a real bed, with a real pillow, and I'm responsible for hatching a real egg. I'd like to see her neffy-poo the pig do that!" he whispered to the egg. Dudley let out a loud snork.

"Ooo, Dudley." Harry frowned. Dudley still hadn't noticed the egg and Harry intended to keep it that way. Getting up he grabbed his book bag and cut tiny air holes all over in it.

"Sorry, but I won't be able to give you any more shell rubs, and I'll have to keep you in the bag at home from now on," Harry whispered to the egg as he carefully put it back in its cocoon and hid it away in the book bag. "I can't risk letting Dudley see you."

Harry could feel that the little creature understood him completely, and was grateful for the added protection. She even seemed to be laughing at him for being concerned that she wouldn't be able to 'see' while in the bag, and tried to convey that she was just happy to float and grow, and Harry was seeing to it that she was doing just that. The only thing she was worried about was the 'pig in the wig'. Harry had told her all about his cousin, and now whenever Dudley got too close, he could feel her getting anxious and moving around in her shell as if trying to escape. The minute he closed the top of his bag and assured her that it was out of sight, he could feel her growing peaceful again.

So the next morning when Mrs. Krueger asked him about the egg (_right in front of Dudley!)_ he about choked on his toast. Luckily she caught his desperate look and quickly changed the subject without Dudley any the wiser, of course Dudley was still half asleep and that might have had something to do with it, but her new topic wasn't all that better in Harry's opinion. Maybe Dudley was right, when he said she didn't like him much.

"So Harry, did your teacher give you a note for me?"

"Er… a note Ma'am?" Harry wondered what Dudley had told her he had done wrong now, that would make her think that the teacher would have sent a note home to inform her. He racked his brain and couldn't come up with anything new that Dudley might have blamed him for that he hadn't already tried to.

"Yes, with a time for the meeting I requested with him."

"A-a a meeting Ma'am?" Was he _that _bad that it whatever it was required a meeting?

"Yes Harry a meeting." Lily gritted her teeth and tried to smile despite his liberal use of the word 'ma'am'. It was better than 'Mrs. Krueger' but not by much. "I asked him for a parent-teacher conference time. Didn't you give him the note I sent with you yesterday?"

"Er… yes."

"Well, did he read it?"

"I think so… but he didn't say anything about a meeting. He just looked…" Harry paused, he didn't think that what he was about to say would make Mrs. Krueger very happy.

"He looked – what?" she pressed.

"… annoyed?" Harry said in a very small voice, and tried to shrink in his chair while describing the mildest version of his teacher's very angry face that he could think of.

Dudley, who had finally woken up the rest of the way when the conversation had started to get interesting, was now grinning from ear to ear. With the expectation that Harry was about to get into big trouble, he looked back and forth from his aunt to his uncle in rapt anticipation. Finally! Payback! However, his Uncle James just said 'I told you so' and smirked at his Auntie Lily, and Auntie Lily just stuck her tongue out at his Uncle James and said 'We'll see about that'.

To his great disappointment, neither of them got upset at Harry. Worse yet, when he swallowed, he discovered he was eating mushy hot porridge again instead of the sugary Choco-Chunks he remembered pouring into his dish. Not fair! He glared around the table to find his two 'uncles' sniggering as they hid behind their newspapers.

As Sirius was still a wanted man, and the full moon was drawing near causing Remus to feel ill, James chaperoned the boys to school that morning. He dropped them off at the corner of the schoolyard on his way to work, with a reminder to Harry to mention his mother's meeting request to his teacher.

He knew Lily wouldn't be satisfied until she had at least met with the man to discuss her concerns. Truthfully, James wouldn't mind knowing that Harry's teacher was also on the lookout for Dudley's bullying. He toyed with the idea of going into the school and searching him out for himself, but he was already late since Dudley dragged his feet the whole way to protest having to walk.

Harry neatly dodged past Dudley and his gang on his way to class and breathed a sigh of relief when he got the egg safely stashed away in his desk for the day. He squirmed restlessly in his seat all morning, as he could hardly wait for detention and another opportunity to work on gaining some potential. He had worked hard on his homework assignment and truly hoped that his teacher would be proud of him, but no matter how many times he tried to catch Mr. Nathraichean's eye, his teacher ignored him as if he wasn't even in the room.

Severus was well aware of every squirm and every hopeful look the dratted boy was sending his way, he just didn't intend to encourage it. The child was far too pathetic in his need for attention, and the observation settled on him uncomfortably. Need such as that could lead to trouble, he should know as that same type of need led him to taking the dark mark. Potter was acting as though he hadn't had a kind word or look sent his way his entire life, which he didn't believe could possibly be true, no matter what his nagging conscious was trying to tell him.

After much thought he decided he had been reading too much into the incident the day before, and Mister Dursley must have been exaggerating when he declared that Harry 'ain't got nuthin'. That was the only explanation that made sense. Surely, the prince of all things had everything he could ever wish for, and then some. The only risk of abuse of which he was in danger, was one of excess. Only it still didn't explain why he would cling so desperately to a cold hard man like him… hm….

Despite his better judgment, he had spoken to the Headmaster the night before, but the meeting had ended most unsatisfactorily in his opinion. He had tried to impress upon him his concerns for Potter's well being, if his current living arrangements with the muggles continued, however Dumbledore just smiled serenely, blue eyes twinkling as if with an unshared joke, and offered him Sherbet Lemons and advice.

Sherbet Lemons - as if a sweet could solve a bloody thing! His advice wasn't much better – _'see with your heart not with your eyes, and what you seek you will find'_. What kind of hogwash was that! If he said it once, he'd say it again – the excessively named and titled Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and King of Enigma, didn't know how to reply to a direct question. Not even if Minerva McGonagall dictated the answer to him word for word, and then tattooed on his bum for good measure.

Arrrghh! He didn't really feel that way (most of the time), he was just frustrated with never getting a straight answer. Dumbledore liked to play his games far too much, but he still had great respect for the man. Long ago, on that horrible night when Lily died and all others turned their backs on him - it was Dumbledore he turned to for support and guidance, Dumbledore who gave him sanctuary at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore who gave him the second chance to redeem his soul. Sometimes he just wondered if the price he had to pay Dumbledore for it wasn't a bit too high. The current price being five meters in front of him with green eyes, messy black hair, and a trusting look on his face.

The Headmaster had once again turned a deaf ear to his pleas to send someone more nurturing to take his place, saying he had full confidence in him to do what needed to be done, and reminding him ever so gently once again of his vow to protect Lily's son. As if he could forget! Every time he looked at those emerald green eyes, it reminded him. However, if the headmaster wasn't concerned with the boy's welfare, why should he be?

As soon as the bell rang for recess, there were those eyes staring at him, from an uncomfortably close distance, immediately on the other side of his desk.

"Did I give you permission to vacate your seat Mister…_'Krueger'_? This is still 'detention', and as such - proper decorum must take place."

"Huh?"

"Sit. Down. Mister. Krueger."

"Oh!" Harry scrambled back to his seat.

"Now where were we?" Mr. Nathraichean started to pace, but as Harry was rather sure it was a rhetorical question, he didn't bother to remind him they were in Little Whinging.

"Ah yes… you were endeavouring to develop your 'potential', and requested my help in doing so. I have given the matter a great deal of thought and I believe that the root of your issue may not be your actual lack of potential, but rather the poor way in which you display that which you have."

"Huh?"

"Again with the eloquent responses, but as it demonstrates my point exactly, your lack of proper habits and daily disciplines, I do thank you for it." When Harry's blank look just continued Severus sighed and launched into a lecture.

"To elaborate: 'potential' is a 'promise' of what one could be if one applies oneself. You might say that developing your potential is same as choosing a path to your destiny. While you cannot choose where that path ultimately leads you, you _can_ choose how you arrive there. To that point, many believe that how you conduct yourself throughout this life journey will ultimately determine what said destiny will be. Therefore developing potential is really a matter of applying superior disciplines on a daily basis that will eventually lead oneself to a quality result." Severus quit pacing and whirled on Harry.

"Do you understand Mister…'_Krueger'_?"

Harry slouched over in his desk, with a glazed look apparent in his eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open, and drool pooling at the corner of his mouth.

"No. I see that you do not. Very well, I shall put this in simple terms that even you should be able to follow. To develop this potential that you so wantonly desire, you first need a good solid foundation of successful behaviours to build on, and from what I have observed of your habits, Mister…_'Krueger'_, it leads me to believe that you Sir are an ill-mannered uneducated waster."

Harry sat up with a start, and was about to protest that he had only been messy to act like Dudley, when Mr. Nathraichean put up a hand to silence him.

"It is not your fault. It is due to the inadequate upbringing you have had thus far. But with hard work we shall remedy that." Severus strode purposely to the front of the room and started writing quickly on the chalkboard in neat precise letters.

_The Salazar System_

Severus advanced on Harry, bent down to stare directly into his eyes, and told him in hushed tones, "The Salazar System is not a myth. It is a rigorous program designed for developing potential. I am taking a calculated risk in sharing this with you for normally, Salazar's secrets are available only to a select few deemed worthy of receiving them, and then again only at a much more mature age of eleven. I don't presume to expect that at your tender age of nine, you will have the mental capacity required to fully take advantage of the power these concepts offer - the softly persuasive charms and alluring charisma, the delicate aura of authority that creeps into the human consciousness, bewitching followers, and ensnaring allegiances. I can teach you how to handle fame, wear a mantle of glory, and even negotiate with death – that is, if you aren't as big a dunderhead as I think you are." He paused and put a finger to Harry's chest. "Before we start Mister…'_Krueger'_,just what are you willing to do, to gain this… potential?"

"Anything Sir," Harry breathed softly, mesmerized by his teacher's dark obsidian eyes.

"Anything? Are you sure Mister..._'Krueger'_? Absolutely sure? Because once embarking on this path there is no turning back. It is not for the squeamish or the faint of heart."

"Yes Sir… anything."

"Someone should really teach you to be more careful of making promises such as that. However, it will not be me. Not yet anyhow," Severus straightened back up and looked at his student thoughtfully, as if having second thoughts. "But I have to wonder – do you have the discipline needed to carry it through?"

"…yes Sir, I do."

"Will you be _totally_ obedient, and follow my _every_ direction _without _question?"

"Yes Sir!"

"No matter how inane or pointless you may think my order?"

"YES SIR!"

"And no matter what others may think of you?"

"YES! YES! I WILL! I WILL!"

"I will not lie to you Mister…_'Krueger'_, it will be a hard course to follow, and you will undoubtedly face the scorn and ridicule of your peers."

"I don't care Sir! They don't like me anyhow. I'll do whatever you say! I will! I want potential! I _have_ to have it! Please Sir… please… teach me!" Harry begged. His face burned with shame that he was so desperate about it.

"Very well then, I suppose I can spare a few moments," he said coolly, with an air of indifference. Ha! He had him. Harry James Potter, the boy-who-soon-would-be-a-Slytherin. James Potter should be turning over in his grave right about now, Severus smirked to himself with satisfaction. Striding back to the board, he started writing vigorously, sending bits of chalk flying.

_**NO Shrugging**__ (- that should eradicate that abominable habit Potter senior passed on) __**  
NO Swearing **__(- that should wipe all trace of the mangy mutt out of him)  
__**NO Sighing **__(- that should remove all the residual effects of the werewolf)  
__**NO Slouching **__(- that should ensure if Pettigrew had any influence at all, it was gone)  
__**NO Sweets **__(- definitively no sweets! It was his pet theory too many sweets tended to kill brain cells – and Potter junior didn't have any extra of those to spare!)_

Severus shuddered again at the memory of the Headmaster and his juvenile delight with the crates of Sherbet Lemons he had delivered to him. Turning back to the chalkboard, he underlined the words 'No Sweets' twice for emphasis.

"You must take these habits to heart, for they are the foundation on which we will build the rest. You must live them, breathe them, _and BE_ them. However, you may not share Salazar's secrets or talk of these lessons to anyone, or there will be grievous consequences. And you may _NOT_ take notes." Harry obediently stopped scribbling but seeing his teacher ball up his paper and toss it in the bin made him frustrated. How did he expect him to remember them all if he didn't write them down?

"Secrets do not remain secrets if you trail evidence behind willy-nilly. Now you have three minutes to memorize them before I erase the board, I suggest you start now. And I warn you, I will not list them for you again." Severus dictated, and then noticing Harry make the unconscious hair raking gesture that had always so irritated him when Potter senior did it, he commendably resisted breaking all the boy's fingers and settled on growling instead, "And add - NO Smoothing that mop you call hair with your fingers – it won't help. I can't think of any more right now, but I'm sure they'll come to me later."

Severus went back to his desk, sat down, and turned over an ornate glass timer full of sand that he used for 'time outs' which would count down the three minutes. As the sparkling sand slipped quickly through the narrow centre of the glass Harry madly recited the rules repeatedly to himself, until all of the 's' words started to sound suspiciously like parseltongue to Severus' sharp ears. No, that was not possible…

'_Mr. Nathraichean's staring at me. How can he do that for so long without blinking?'_

'_It's odd but the longer I stare at the urchin, the more beads of sweat pop out on his forehead. I wonder if I can make him squirm too…' _

'_It's creepy! Aunt Petunia would say that it isn't natural.'_ Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was hard enough to concentrate on memorizing the list without his teacher visually boring holes through his head.

"Your three minutes are up. Eyes forward, mouth shut, and NO Squirming." Severus wiped the board clean and sat back down to resume his blatant staring.

Harry tried not to squirm, but telling someone not to squirm and then watching to make sure that they didn't, made squirming even more likely. He wanted to obey the order, and thought it would be a piece of cake until he tried. Only it turned out to be hard work.

'_I wonder what is going on in that miniscule mind of his now. I can almost see the tiny wheels trying to turn…'_

'_Hm… Aunt Petunia also says I'm not natural… but that's because I'm a wizard… I wonder… I wonder if Mr. Nathraichean is an unnatural wizard too…'_

'_Merlin, I would love to use legilimency…'_

'_No, he can't be… Mr. Nathraichean is a teacher…. I wonder if he's still staring at me… '_

'_He's probably sitting there pouting thinking the rules are too strict, and trying to think up some evil pranks to pull for revenge like his father would do…'_

Harry snuck a peek, _'Yup… he is… '_

'_If he is, then legilimency would be a justified self-defence…'_

'_Uncle Remmy was a teacher and he is also a wizard…' _

'_The little spoiled brat is up to something I just know it!'_

'_So was Mrs. Krueger…'_

'_I can't stand it anymore! I don't care what I promised Albus last night…' _

'_I guess Mr. Nathraichean could be both too. And Uncle Remmy and Mrs. Krueger were both nice to me and Mr. Nathraichean was kind of nice at lunch yesterday.'_

'…_and unless I confess, which I won't, he'll never know…'_

'_He has even been making my bruises feel better. They hardly hurt at all today, and now he's helping me get potential. Maybe if I asked him real nice he would help make sure the egg hatches too. I really want Mr. and Mrs. Krueger to keep me.' _Harry thought about wanting to be a family with them forever. And while he wanted to ask his teacher for help to ensure that happened, he couldn't risk putting his family in danger even if he had to give them up to keep them safe. Just picturing their faces was enough to help him fight back the impulse to spill his guts and tell Mr. Nathraichean everything.

'_He's getting a shifty guilty look in his eyes now… that does it! I'm going to do it! I MUST know what he is thinking about right now!'_

To a spy timing is everything, and right then the bell rang and the rest of the class noisily rushed back into the classroom to take their seats.

'_Drat! The one time the evil little munchkins come back on time!'_

Severus scowled at the class until silence descended over the room, making Harry wonder why 'NO scowling' wasn't on the list - it was an 's' word too. Maybe there was a second list – the 'YES' list and scowling was on it instead. Mr. Nathraichean scowled a lot, and so did Dudley. They both seem to get what they wanted. That must be it.

Harry scowled fiercely back at the teacher, doing his best to imitate his every facial nuance and gesture.

"Mister…_'Krueger'_, there will be NO Scowling in my classroom." Severus snapped angrily at what he took to be an unflattering impersonation. He would not allow another generation of Potters to ridicule him! The ungrateful brat!

The class giggled behind their hands and Dudley openly grinned. He did so like it when Harry got into trouble!

Harry blushed with embarrassment and started to slouch down in his seat, but at the stern look from his teacher, he gulped and sat up straight, eyes forward, for the rest of the morning, trying hard not to move a muscle. By the time the bell rang again he was sorer from not moving, than he had been the day before from cleaning the floor. Never was he so glad for lunchtime to come!

The gloomy atmosphere inside the classroom had spread outside. The spring rains started to fall in earnest, forcing the students to eat lunch inside at tables in the large hall that did double duty as a cafeteria and a gymnasium. Harry disliked eating inside because there was nowhere to hide from Dudley and his gang, and within seconds, they had relieved him of his lunch, leaving him with only an empty sack and a few broken crisps. He was glad he had eaten breakfast.

With nothing to eat, Harry spent lunchtime observing his teacher doing his assigned patrol duty around the tables. Mr. Nathraichean did not appear to be enjoying the task at all, especially when he had milk sprayed all over him when Malcolm missed Piers with his half full carton, or when he almost slipped on the half eaten banana Gordon had thrown at Dudley. Harry was secretly glad about it. Maybe if his teacher took out all his frustrations on the kids involved in the food fight, his afternoon detention wouldn't be another staring contest. Then Dudley hit their teacher in the back of the head with the orange that he'd stolen from Harry's lunch no less! It looked as though Dudley had aimed at Gordon in retaliation, but Dudley's aim was bad, Gordon had ducked, and Mr. Nathraichean hadn't. Only Harry saw the glint in Dudley's eye right before the fruit flew.

When Mr. Nathraichean hauled Dudley out of his seat by his collar, and demanded to know who started the riot, his cousin acted innocent, pointed at Harry accusingly, and showed his teacher the orange that Mr. Krueger had thoughtfully written Harry's name on with a big blue marker just that morning. As everyone in the cafeteria turned to stare at Harry sitting alone at the opposite end of the table with the empty lunch sack in front of him as evidence, he knew then that a stress free afternoon detention wasn't likely. The few crisps he had been nibbling on turned to cardboard paste in his mouth. If it weren't against the secret rules of Salazar, he would have sworn.

The rest of the day, Harry was so focused on not doing anything else that started with the letter 's' (he figured the way the list was growing it would be easier to remember that way), that by the time his afternoon detention rolled around, he had forgotten all about his homework that was still due. Unfortunately, Mr. Nathraichean hadn't forgotten. He demanded the list of the three things that he did better than his cousin Dudley did.

"But I thought we were going to work on my potential some more!" Harry protested.

"Add NO Snivelling to the list, it is most annoying." As soon as Harry shut his mouth, Severus sneered at him and asked, "Now, what makes you so sure we are not working on your potential? Are you the teacher?" When Harry just glared, he demanded again, "I want that list, and do not tell me that you had the audacity to not do it… I am certain that I made it quite clear you were not to return to class without it."

"No, I did it… but can't we start with the vocabulary? It's a lot better…" Harry faltered under the death glare emanating from his teacher. He supposed he should just be grateful that so far no mention had been made of the food fight in the cafeteria.

"What did you say?"

"Sorry Sir… I have it right here." Harry reluctantly fished the paper out of his desk and handed it over. He had worked hard on his vocabulary and he was ready to discuss the next words. Only when it came to the list… well, that was a problem.

"Let's see now… _'One - I'm more stupid, Two - I get into more trouble, and Three – Dudley has friends, and I don't.' _What type of asinine list is this?" Severus angrily slammed the paper down on Harry's desktop, making the whole desk shake.

Harry could sense the little creature inside waking up from her nap and sending out protective vibes against whomever was making loud noises, rattling her haven, and threatening her human. Harry wished he could open up the desk and reassure her that he was okay and that Mr. Nathraichean wasn't a threat. Only he wasn't so sure about the last, and besides he thought it would be much better if the egg stayed hidden.

"Explain yourself Mister…_'Krueger'._" Severus spat mere centimetres from Harry's face.

"Explain why you say my name like that!" Unnerved, Harry spat back with equal venom.

"Your name? What does it matter to you how I say it? The impression I had was that you did not wish to claim it... just _'Harry_'." Severus drawled. It took him aback that the boy had finally cracked over such a miniscule thing as the pronunciation of his name when he had given him so much more to complain about than that. For that matter, he truly wasn't sure if he could pronounce it any other way even if he wanted to, which he didn't… the name 'Krueger' was just so soooooo grating - a Potter by any other name being after all still a Potter.

"But I do Sir… more than anything." Harry replied wistfully with his eyes lowered, his initial spurt of bravado, leaving as rapidly as it had come.

"Then just what pray tell, is the issue Mister…_'Krueger'_?" he snarled with added emphasis on the air quotes.

"It's just that it's not mine, nothing is... not really. That's why my list is like that Sir. I really did try to think of something to put down as you told me to, I did. But it's not my name, and without it, that's all I am – just Harry, a stupid troublemaker with no friends."

"Well that at least is an improvement." Severus said sarcastically, but Harry not getting the meaning just looked up puzzled.

"It is?"

"Yes. I was certain you were going to claim once again to be a 'freak'. A 'stupid troublemaker with no friends' is vast improvement over that, but sadly one I cannot dispute. However, this is not a list of three things that you do better than your cousin – and that was the assignment."

"But like I told you yesterday, I _don't _do _anything_ better than Dudley!" Harry repeated.

"That statement is pure undiluted duplicity," Severus snorted. Did this child have absolutely no sense of self-worth whatsoever?

"What?"

"If you did indeed study your vocabulary, as you claim to have, you should understand my meaning without further elaboration. Do you not know the meaning of the word?"

"Duplicity – is a noun, etymology is Middle English from 'duplicite'. It means deliberate or fraudulent deceptiveness in thought, speech or action to disguise your true intentions." Harry recited dutifully, and then added, "But I didn't lie! It's the truth! It's the other one!"

"The other what?"

"The other vocabulary word - bona fide! Bona fide: a Latin adjective meaning in good faith, without fraud or deceit, genuine and sincere, made with earnest intent. That's me! I'm earnest!"

"So you have changed your first name as well?" As a thoroughly puzzled look came over Potter's face, Severus sighed to himself. He missed his vocal sparring sessions with the other Heads of Houses back at Hogwarts, he hated to waste good sarcasm.

"Ahem… be that as it may, I have been observing all my students closely for the past several weeks and I beg to differ with you. I can easily list three things that you are better at than Mister Dursley, thus proving once again, your thinking erroneous and statement false, and thus duplicitous."

"You can? Really?" Harry asked with curiosity. He'd thought about it all night long and hadn't come up with even one thing he could claim.

"Indubitably. Were not your 'parents', and I once again use the term loosely, also not able to provide you with a suitable inventory of your assets?"

"Er… no?" Harry guiltily thought that he hadn't even bothered to ask them.

"I thought not, no matter I will provide it to you in their stead. One, I have seen you outrun Mister Dursley on numerous occasions. In a fair race you would undoubtedly outpace him every time."

"But he always ends up catching me!"

"I qualified it to be in a 'fair' race, one where you are not impeded by shoes that are several sizes too big, or by obstacles such as his erstwhile followers tripping you."

Harry blushed and tucked his feet with the dilapidated trainers, hand-me-downs from Dudley, out of sight under his seat. The Krueger's had said that they were going to buy him a new pair, but with everything that had happened, they had forgotten about it. He hadn't wanted to seem greedy by reminding them. Besides, if he waited long enough he would grow and then they would fit, so problem solved.

"Two, I have noted you have far greater self control when it comes to not overindulging - in food, in particular. If anything, you possess far too much self control to the point of it verging on being an unhealthy obsession," he remarked dryly noting once again how thin the boy was. Don't these Kruegers ever feed him? Striding back to the front of the room, he fished the lunchtime missile out of his desk and tossed it from across the room with Harry catching it easily.

"I believe you misplaced that in the cafeteria. As I mentioned, on at least one prior occasion, I do not approve of littering, so please dispose of it properly this time."

Startled, Harry looked at him with wide frightened eyes. Was he in trouble over the food fight after all? Noooooo! He had just got past the apple affair! Then he saw the tiniest hint of a smile in one corner of his teacher's mouth and it set his mind at ease. On his teacher's face, that slight twitch was akin to an outright grin.

"If I had to wager a guess, I would have to bet that your cousin has never turned down 'seconds' in his life."

"Or thirds!" Harry agreed giggling, gladly peeling the orange and eating it. Now that he knew he wasn't in big trouble again, his appetite had returned.

"Speaking of thirds… I have one to go. Three - as much as it pains me to say this, unlike Mister Dursley, you are… _(ahem)_… not _totally_ without _some_ athletic dexterity. I am most certain that if you had indeed thrown the orange at your cousin as alleged, you would not have missed your target."

"That's where you're wrong." Harry said softly. "Dudley never misses what he aims at."

"What was that Mister…_'Krueger'_? You have something pertinent to add?"

"No Sir, nothing," Harry said much louder, causing his teacher to raise a sceptical eyebrow. It wouldn't pay to rat on Dudley to the teacher, Dudley would find a way to turn it on him. Besides, he really didn't want to share any more of his detentions with his cousin. They were the most fun he'd ever had at school, even if Mr. Nathraichean was sort of crabby and had a penchant for staring. Besides 'snitching' was another 's' word.

"No? Well then, let us start over: list three things you do better than your cousin."

"Er… you think I'm faster, not as fat, and maybe aim better?"

"Please try to curb your enthusiasm, it's practically blinding," Severus remark dryly at the hesitant reply.

"Er… sorry Sir."

Severus gritted his teeth at the unwarranted apology. He would have to consider adding no 'saying sorry' to the list. Well… perhaps later, no need to go overboard just yet.

"No, it is I who should be apologizing. I obviously misjudged your level of competency and confused you with the brevity of my query. What I should have asked Mister…_'Krueger'_ is 'what is it that _you_ think you do better than Mister Dursley?' I already know what I think, and I have shared that with you to some degree. Now, as per the assignment, I would like to know your opinion…" Severus narrowed his eyes and said evenly, "…even if I have to drag it out of you - syllable by syllable."

Harry gulped. Mr. Nathraichean meant it and from the look in his eyes, Harry knew the method he had in mind to do that very thing, would be extremely painful.

"Er… well… I was going to say that I think I'm better at being neater, at being quiet, and at being helpful. But none of that is really being better than him."

"And why not?"

"Well… because Dudley makes REALLY big messes, and he throws REALLY loud tantrums, and he would REALLY rather watch me work that do anything himself, and everyone thinks he's a perfect role model. So being neater, and quieter and more helpful really can't be being better than him… right?"

The reasoning skills of nine-year-olds would never cease to amaze him. "And whom might I ask is this 'everyone'?"

"The Dursleys and the Kruegers," Harry admitted quietly.

"I see."

"You do?" Harry was relieved because he soooooo didn't want to elaborate further.

"Really," Severus mocked and strode to the blackboard and wrote on it in large letters, NO being a Simpleton! "Just because some ignoramuses hold to specious reasoning, does not make their opinion fact. What you need to do is evaluate such opinions to determine if they are duplicitous, or if they indeed support a bona fide conclusion."

"What?" The teacher had lost him at 'ignoramuses'.

"In short – if you must listen to the opinions of others then ask yourself, is the person offering it sincere in their intent, or do they have cause to be deliberately deceptive."

"You mean they 'lie' like in pretence?" Harry frowned. His teacher sure had a thing about thinking the worst about of people.

"If you look deeply you will find that the greatest of lies will be built on enough 'truth' to make them undeniably believable, but that does not change the fact that they are a lie. Before you act on information from others, do your own research. If you make that a practice, then you will seldom have anything to regret. Do you understand?"

"I think so. Do you mean I should think for myself?"

"Congratulation Mister…_'Krueger'_, you have been correct two days in a row. Will wonders never cease?"

"So Sir… would you say that you think I'm smart too?" Harry asked slowly drawing S's on his desktop with his finger and keeping a watch on his teacher out of the corner of his eye (just in case he had to run real fast after asking that).

"Don't push it. I listed three things. That is my limit." Severus replied with a completely straight face, it was hard not to be proud of his little Slytherin-in-training trying to wheedle one more compliment out of him. _'Smart-aleck is more like it.' _

"For the rest of our time today, I want you to sit quietly and think about these Dursleys and Kruegers and decide for yourself if their opinion is worth considering in the future. Your assignment for this evening is to practice the Salazar system and to prepare yourself to discuss the next two vocabulary words in length." Severus sat down, took up a stack of quizzes, and proceeded to sprinkle them liberally with red pen marks. He always found a rousing session of grading to be most satisfactory in squelching even the warmest of fuzzy feelings towards students.

Properly dismissed, Harry proceeded to think and think and think. He cared very much what the Kruegers thought of him. He cared so much it hurt. As for the Dursleys? Well… not so much. Still… the Dursley's had raised him for eight years and he had always tried his best to please them. All he had ever wanted in return was a little acceptance. So yes, no matter if his teacher thought he should or not, he did care.

All this thinking was making his head swim, until finally the memory of the request Mrs. Krueger had made of him that morning floated to the surface. He had almost forgotten, and after Mr. Krueger had made a point of reminding him too!

"Mr. Nathraichean?" Harry raised his hand a little timidly.

"What is it?" Severus looked up from work, irritated at the interruption. He had just been about to write down the most perfect scathing remark, and now it had escaped him.

"Er…" Harry swallowed hard. He'd better just do it fast and get it over.

"Quit wasting my time."

"Er… sorry Sir… um… my m- … er… Mrs. Krueger that is, she told me to ask you for a parent-teacher conference time."

"She did, did she? The 'note' writer I presume." Severus said snidely staring down his nose at Potter.

"Er… yeah."

"For what purpose may I ask?" he asked leaning back and steepling his fingers together.

Harry hedged a bit in his response, "She didn't…. _exactly_… say, Sir."

"Well then, tell your mug – … your 'mummy', that in that case I can not _exactly_ spare the time. I am a very busy man, and I do not have time to waste on _'parents' _who do not have a clear concise agenda."

"Okay I'll tell her," Harry agreed slouching down in his seat and mentally adding, _'but she won't like it.'_

"Sit up straight." Mr. Nathraichean instructed, without even glancing over to verify the slouch first.

"Yes Sir." Harry sighed and sat up straight.

"And no sighing."

"Yes Sir." Harry replied dutifully with a roll of his eyes.

"And NO Scornful eye rolling – add that to the list, don't know how I missed it earlier."

"Yes Sir." Harry paused a long time and then with a mischievous glint in his eye finally ventured to raise his hand and speak up again.

"Mr. Nathraichean?"

"What is it now Mister…_'Krueger'?"_

"With your permission Sir, may I breathe?"

"And NO Sarcasm." Behind his scowl however, Severus smirked proudly at his cheek.

"Yes Sir."

Harry then wisely decided to shut up before the list got any longer.

On the way home, he tried practicing walking with purpose as his teacher did, but was very unsuccessful. He found it was hard to do when you were running for your life from Dudley and his gang. Nevertheless, his teacher was right about one thing - after he took off his too big shoes and slung them around his neck by the laces, he did outrun them all, and very easily! He was home and seated at the kitchen table munching on his after school treat, long before his cousin huffed and puffed his way in the door.

"Hey that's mine freakazoid hands off!" Dudley protested as he flopped down out of breath and started to reach over to seize the rest of the biscuits and milk.

"Hark! Is that the dulcet sounds of our wayward charge arriving home?" The sound of Sirius' voice floating down from above had Dudley cringing in horror, frozen in mid grab.

"By Jove, I do believe you are correct my good man, shall we adjourn and join the lads for a spot of tea, whilst the lady of the house finishes her nap?" returned the voice of Remus as the sound of feet hitting the floor echoed down the circular staircase.

"Great. Just great," growled Dudley. "That's all I need – more freaks."

"What was that Dumplekins?" Sirius asked good-naturedly as he pranced into the kitchen with Holly riding on his hip.

"Um… I said I need more _treats_. Harry was a greedy pig and ate them all." Dudley quickly said to cover his verbal slur of the men acting as his de-facto guardians.

"Good going kiddo!" Remus winked and nodded at Harry approvingly, and then told Dudley that the biscuits and milk were for Harry anyway and that they had prepared their own special treat for him. He then proceeded to pull a plate of apple and cheese slices out of the icebox, along with a tall glass of thick orangey liquid.

"What's that?" Dudley asked wrinkling his nose at the frothy juice.

"Pumpkin juice! It's great! You're going to love it!" Sirius pushed it at him enthusiastically.

"I'm not drinking that gunk." Dudley flatly refused, turning his nose up at it. "I want cola!"

"Ooo tough break for you then, because you're not getting cola, you're getting pumpkin juice." Sirius said pushing it back in front of him.

"**I WANT COLA AND CRISPS!"** Dudley screamed and pounded his fists on the table.

"No - juice and apples." Sirius and Remus said in unison, with Remus adding the stipulation "If you don't want what we prepared for you, then you don't get anything."

Harry just watched the whole exchange with big eyes as he munched on the biscuits. No one ever denied Dudley anything, at least not without regretting it very soon after, and then never doing it again. Only Dudley never had two people like Harry's godfathers telling him what to do before either. Harry thought back about what his teacher told him about the vocabulary words today and how there were two kinds of people in the world, ones with good intentions and ones with bad, but his teacher also told him to think for himself and he thought there were three. The third group was the largest and fell somewhere in between.

He decided that Uncle Remmy and Uncle Siri were great examples of the third group: good people who gave bona fide offers of help, but enjoyed dabbling in a little deception and good-natured trickery to do it. He knew they weren't mean and duplicitous in their hearts - they just liked having fun. Now that they were responsible for his cousin, it was only right they were more loyal to him than to Harry. Still they had kept their promise and hadn't told Dudley about his night-time accident, so their hearts were in the right place. Besides, they genuinely seemed to want to help Dudley. Too bad his cousin couldn't see it for what it was and appreciate it. Harry jealously thought that he would do almost anything for even half the attention they were lavishing on his cousin.

The rest of the evening Harry just tried to stay out of Dudley's way and covertly practice not doing anything that started with an 's' while he looked up the next vocabulary words in the dictionary. Then it occurred to him that 'Studying' started with an 's' too, and he snapped the book closed and put it up. Boy! When his teacher was right, he was right! It was going to be harder than he thought to follow Salazar's system.

Dudley on the other hand did his best to get into everyone's way, just to make sure they all knew how very unhappy he was that he wasn't getting his way on anything. When that failed to impress them, he proceeded to throw tantrum after tantrum. He threw one when they had liver and broccoli for dinner. Then another when instead of ice cream they had fruit for dessert! Lastly, the tantrum to top all tantrums was when they wouldn't let him play on his computer! Instead, they made him write the lines they had assigned to him the night before. It wasn't fair! They weren't his teachers! They shouldn't be able to give him homework! Just who did they think they were?

All in all, Dudley was very mad when they sent him to bed early after he finally pushed Remus over the proverbial edge by refusing to take his bath. He had demanded to take a shower instead, claiming baths were for babies. But the last time they had let him use one, he had stopped up the drain, just to see what would happened, and left the water running when he left. It had overflowed, flooding Remus' flat below. Remus said there were still spots that needed to dry out before mould started to grow, and he hadn't gotten flood insurance.

Sirius had been getting advice on raising children from watching all the daytime talk shows on Dudley's telly, and was convinced that it would stunt Dudley's growth (and warp his personality even further), if he didn't bathe daily - either that, or it was if he didn't drink enough liquids. But whichever it was, it had _something_ to do with needing daily watering just like plants, and since Dudley wouldn't bathe and Remus wouldn't let him shower, Sirius did the only thing he could think of to break the standoff – borrow James' wand and freshen Dudley up with a cleaning spell.

That almost caused Dudley to go into convulsions, positive he had now been overly 'contaminated' by their freakishness, just as his parents had always warned him would happen if he got too close to 'those kind of people'. Then one of 'those people', with his nerves worn thin by the non-stop screaming and the pending full moon, bared his teeth and snarled 'fine, if you don't want our company tonight you can just go to bed now', and cast a stick-em spell to ensure he stayed there even though it was only seven thirty-five.

Harry watched as his harried godfathers parted at the circular staircase, one going up and one going down, both simultaneously slamming their doors. Maybe he didn't want all the attention they were lavishing on Dudley after all, at least not until they calmed down.

"James… honey… do you think we ought to let them off the hook?" Lily asked, but with a note of reluctance in her voice. She had been enjoying just being a spectator.

"Nah… they're big boys, they can handle it a bit longer," he assured her as he propped his feet up on the coffee table and looped his arm over her shoulders. He had a different boy over which to worry. Harry had put away his schoolbooks and was sitting on the rug cross-legged with a ramrod straight back, staring straight ahead with a grim expression on his face. When James looked in the same direction Harry was, all he saw was the staircase. Appraising his young son thoughtfully he finally asked, "Hey Prongslet, are you okay? That didn't upset you did it? You know they aren't mad at you, right?"

"Oh I know Mr. Krueger, I'm not upset."

"Then do you want to play a game of exploding snap with your old man?"

"No thank you. I'm doing my homework."

"Homework? But you put your books away."

"Yes Sir, I did." Harry replied trying to keep it short so he could go back to concentrating on his posture.

"Why?"

"Because that would be studying."

"And…? I guess don't get it."

"Get what Sir?"

"If you still have homework why aren't you studying?"

"Because that _is_ my homework," Harry said exasperated while chanting to himself, _'Must not roll eyes! Must not roll eyes! Must not roll eyes!' _

"Your homework is to not study?" James said with raised eyebrows.

"Yes Mr. Krueger Sir."

"Wish I had had that kind of homework when I was in school." James said admiringly only to get a poke in the ribs from Lily.

"Sweetie, just what_ is_ your homework assignment, and shouldn't Dudley be doing it too? He told your godfathers there wasn't any tonight." Lily asked a little worriedly, it wouldn't do if Dudley were lying to Remus and Sirius again, on top of everything else.

"No he was right, the rest of the class didn't have any - it was just me." Harry answered only the last part of the question and neatly skipped over the first part, hoping they wouldn't notice. It worked, but his answer did focus their attention on something else.

"Just you? I don't like it that he singling you out. It sounds like this teacher is being a bit of a bully." James frowned.

"Er… it's okay, I don't mind." Harry said hurriedly, and then thinking of no other way out of the conversation jumped up and announced, "I'm going to go take my bath now."

Lily and James just stared after his quickly retreating back with wonder. Then James to turned to Lily and asked, "Didn't Harry already take his bath?"

"Yes dear he did."

"One of these days I swear, I am going to figure out what is going on his that little mixed up head of his." James vowed.

"You do that, and then tell me too, okay?" Lily returned and put her head on his shoulder with a sigh, "I'd like to know myself, but I'm just too tired to think about it right now." However, tired or not - think about it was all she did. Nightmares caused her to toss and turn as she dreamt of the mysterious Mr. Nathraichean picking on her son, and her being powerless to stop it. However, in the middle of the night, the tables turned and she tromped the evil teacher in a duel, waking her with the determination to do it in real life as well. No one was going to pick on her son if she could help it, not his cousin, and not his teacher. She wasn't powerless - she was a mother!

The next morning Lily put on a positive attitude and over breakfast asked Harry brightly, "I forgot to ask you last night, what time are we meeting with your teacher today?"

"Um… we're not?" Harry replied squinching up his eyes real tight as if he could hide behind them by doing so. '_Must not shrug! Must not shrug! Must not shrug!'_

"Harry! You know I want to talk with him. He is never there whenever I just drop in after school, and he didn't respond to my note. Didn't you ask him for a parent-teacher conference time as I asked you to do?"

"…yes…" he replied in a very small voice. _'Must not sigh! Must not sigh! Must not sigh!'_

"And?"

"…and he… er… he said he was a very busy man and didn't have time to waste on parents who don't have a general… no, that not right… um… oh yeah I got it! …on parents that don't have an agenda."

"Well! You just march in there this morning and you tell him that I DO have an agenda! You tell him that I want to talk to him about his teaching methods, and his homework assignments, and- and- and yes!... _and_ about his attitude towards Arts and Crafts! It's deplorable!" Lily listed, counting them off on her fingers one by one, royally ticked off. She was beginning to see what Harry and Dudley meant about their teacher.

"Okay I'll tell him," Harry agreed with a grouchy tone to his voice, slouching down in his seat at the table and mentally adding, _'but he won't like it.'_

"Don't slouch." Lily said offhandedly while reaching over to pick Holly up from her highchair, without even glancing over to verify the slouch first.

"Yes Ma'am." Harry sighed and sat up straight.

"And don't sigh when your mother tells you to do something." James added.

"Yes Sir," Harry agreed but unconsciously rolled his eyes when he did so.

"And don't roll your eyes, when you're feeling picked on." Sirius advised nodding his head vigorously, "It makes people believe you're not agreeing with them. I should know - it got me into trouble enough times. You have to know when and where to use an eye roll to make it truly effective. We'll work on it after dinner tonight."

"Yes Uncle Siri." Harry sat very still, trying not to do anything that would offend anyone.

"Hey Harry… it is okay to breathe." Remus said with a playful smile as the boy let out the breath he was holding.

"Thanks, Uncle Remmy."

Dudley just snorted with derision and said nothing during the whole exchange. Much to the relief of all of the occupants of the Marauder's mansion, Dudley had made the decision that morning when he woke up to protest everything that was happening, by giving them all the silent treatment. They were all hoping it would last at least until their hearing had recovered from his 'un'-silent treatment from the night before.

As James dropped the boys off at the playground, he reminded Harry again about his mother's request. Harry just looked at him with his large green eyes and nodded resignedly. _'Must not swear! Must not swear! Must not swear!'_

Escaping his daddy's goodbye hug as quickly as he could, Harry ran into the building. He really wished they would quit being nice! It made it so hard not to become more attached than what he already was, and it was confusing him. He really didn't know what they wanted from him, driving home his teacher's point about not falling prey to deception and pretence. For the only time he really felt sure of anything anymore was when Mr. Nathraichean was being snarky at him. At least then, he knew exactly where he stood. Mr. Nathraichean didn't like him and he never failed to let him know it, no pretence at all. After spending time with the Kruegers - where he had to be constantly on his guard against slipping up and accidentally telling them he loved them - it was actually a relief to come to school and have his teacher belittle him, as he should be.

As soon as the class let out for morning recess, Harry assumed his 'Salazar' position with back straight, chin up, eyes forward, and smile wiped off his face. He had practiced it in front of the mirror the night before when he had escaped to take his bath, and realized to his embarrassment, after he locked himself in the bathroom, that he had already taken one. Hoping the Kruegers hadn't remembered either, he stayed in the bathroom and practiced his stare instead. His teacher should be proud of him today!

Severus leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingertips together, and appraised his student, until Harry start to sweat under his scrutiny.

'_My, my, my…Potter is obviously trying to impress me this morning. Sitting there as still as can be looking all serious and attentive. I think it is time to see if he's all show and no substance.'_

"Mister…_'Krueger' _list the etymology, function, and definition of the word 'admirable'," he fired off suddenly.

"Er…" Harry's mind went horribly blank! For a fleeting second, he considered trying to wing it. Only his teacher's death stare let him know in no uncertain terms that it would end up being worse if he didn't admit the truth up front. "I don't know Sir…"

Severus scowled over his fingertips, and tried again. "List the etymology, function, and definition of the word 'proper'."

Harry swallowed hard, "I don't know that one either Sir."

"I gave you a simple assignment yesterday – practice the Salazar system and prepare yourself to discuss the next vocabulary words in length. Were my directions not clear?"

"No Sir, you were very clear," Harry replied miserably.

"Perhaps your tiny brain cannot process more than one thing at a time. Was it too taxing to have two simultaneous tasks assigned?" he asked condescendingly.

"No… I practiced the Salazar system… but…"

"But what?"

"…but you didn't let me write down Salazar's list. Then you kept adding more to it, and _then_ when I was practicing, I couldn't remember what they all were, only that they all started with 's' like 'Salazar', so I… I… I…"

"Yes, you what – what - what?"

"I just tried not to do anything that started with 's' and 'study' started with 's'… so I didn't do it," he ended lamely trying not to add a shrug to punctuate it.

"Are you that inept of a speller? What does the word 'prepare' start with pray tell?"

"A 'p'? Oh! I didn't think of that."

"Of course you didn't, thinking takes work." Severus scornfully glared at him, _'he's just like his father, without my intervention he would have just been another pampered prat.'_

"Sorry Sir," Harry said meekly.

Severus sneered at the pathetic apology and wrote on the blackboard in large letters:

_**DO have Self-Respect  
DO have Self-Confidence  
DO have Self-Control  
DO use Common Sense  
DO STUDY**_

"I was not aware I had to spell the obvious out for you. I will keep it in mind in the future."

Harry's cheeks grew hot with shame at his failure to follow the system on his very first try, but he was glad the teacher hadn't just booted him out of class and told him never to come back. The way he had glared at him, it had been a distinct possibility he would.

"'Admirable' for your edification is an adjective from the Middle English meaning to be deserving of the highest esteem, to be an inspiration and worthy of praise." When Severus had carefully chosen the word list, he had picked this one to describe Albus Dumbledore the leader of the Light side in the wizarding war. For no matter how much the old wizard vexed him from time to time (he suspected Albus enjoyed doing it on purpose though as of yet he had no verifiable proof), the headmaster was the only man that Severus ever felt deserving of his highest esteem.

"Tell me Mister…_'Krueger_' do you know of anyone for whom this adjective would be a fitting description? Who is at least one person you hold high esteem for – and why?"

The way Mr. Nathraichean sneered the question left no doubt in Harry's mind the exacting teacher would disapprove of anyone that Harry listed, but that didn't stop Harry from thinking of four people right off the bat who he admired with his whole heart and soul: his parents and his godfathers. To choose just one over the other three was something he didn't think he could do - he loved them all so much. The overwhelming rush of emotion he felt, whenever he thought of them, made him temporarily forget his pledge to keep their identity secret. It was on the tip of his tongue to recklessly rattle off all their names and proudly tell his teacher all about them, to prove to him how wonderful they all were, but Mr. Nathraichean was impatient and Harry hesitated too long.

"What? No one comes to mind? I would have thought that if nothing else you would have at least mentioned Father Christmas. Most children do, as he showers you with enough gifts each year to single handedly support the world's mercantile guilds."

"Father Christmas doesn't like me," Harry responded flatly, as his euphoric bubble abruptly popped. The mere mention of the jolly white bearded man reminded him that he didn't deserve the family he was about to wax poetic about, any more than he did a Christmas gift. Aunt Petunia had told him once that Father Christmas had informed her personally that Harry should quit sending him letters, as they were a waste of his time.

"Forgive me Mister…_'Krueger'_ my mistake - wrong holiday. However, my opinion of the good man has risen dramatically with that knowledge. Shall we consider the Easter Bunny then? The fluffy menace filling you chock full with baskets of chocolates and toffees, sweets upon sweets - enough to rot your teeth." Severus stalked closer with each syllable until he reached the boy's desk. Upon closer inspection, he could see a spot of sweet jam left on the front of Harry's favourite jumper from his toast at breakfast. Seeing as Harry had worn the same jumper every day that week (to make sure it wasn't left behind were he to be hauled off suddenly by Uncle Vernon), it wasn't surprising it was in want of cleaning. The only surprise was that there weren't more sticky spots.

"Sweets are against Salazar's rules." Harry whispered, just loud enough for his teacher to hear him. Only he had to wonder… Mr. Nathraichean's teeth were rather yellowish. Did he have firsthand experience with the effect of too much sugar?

"And yet you partook," Severus sneered accusingly. "You didn't practice Salazar's system at all. Did you?"

"I tried." Harry whispered even quieter than before. Guiltily he thought of the plate of biscuits he had consumed after school the prior day, before Dudley had a chance to eat them all. They were so warm and gooey he hadn't wanted to think about it at the time, but Mr. Nathraichean would have probably fit them into the taboo sweets category right along with candy and cakes. How could he have been so stupid? Moreover, how could Mr. Nathraichean have known? Could he read minds after all?

"What was that Mister…_'Krueger'_?"

Harry cleared his throat and spoke up more loudly. "No Sir, I didn't. I ate an entire plate of biscuits after school… chocolate chip."

"The fact that the chip consisted of chocolate, and not something else, makes it no less offensive. Let us recap then, shall we? One - you blatantly disregarded one of the first five rules of the Salazar system by consuming a vast quantity of sugar after school. Two – upon doing so, your brain ceased to function adequately enough to allow you to follow the rest of the Salazar system. Three – due to your diminished capacity, you did not complete your homework assignment properly. Would you agree with that assessment Mister…_'Krueger'_?" He finished with a furious slap of the palms of his hands flat on Harry's desktop, making the whole desk rattle and waking up the little creature inside.

Harry just nodded silently and hung his head. What could he say? It was all so horribly true. He had messed up again. He could feel the egg's sympathy at his distress, emanating from inside his desk. Its support gave him the courage to lift his chin again, look his teacher in the eye, and speak up.

"Yes Sir, I agree. I realize now what I did wrong, and promise to work hard to do better."

"Proprious, my young student, is the Latin root of the word 'proper', which can be used as an adjective, an adverb, or a noun, and has many definitions. The one that I am the most partial to is the one that refers to social behaviour and strictly following society's rules and conventions, as in behaving as a proper gentleman. However, it can also characterized something being fitting or suitable. Such as your promise to do better – it was a proper apology – head held high, admitting your mistake without excuse, and laying out a course of action to correct similar occurrences in the future. I found it quite adequate. Bravo Mister…'_Krueger'. _Bravo!"

His teacher calling him 'adequate' was about as good as it got. Harry glowed under the unaccustomed praise and sat up a little straighter. Seeing the boy feed off from his words, gave Mr. Nathraichean incentive to continue his lesson.

"Admirable and proper are two words that go to the very core of Salazar's system. You must always keep them in mind when you are making decisions, especially those that affect others. Ask yourself, 'Is the choice I am making one that is worthy and true?' And most importantly, 'Will I be able to live with the consequences?'" Severus had ample experience in failing at this advice himself. He knew firsthand the devastation that could result when one didn't pause long enough to ask the question or to search his soul deeply enough to be honest about his answer. To his shame, the orphaned result of his rash decision-making was staring him in the face right now.

"Mr. Nathraichean? What are 'consequences'?"

"Good question. A consequence is the result of an action."

"Huh?"

"Answer me this – what will happen if you do not do your homework again tonight?"

"You will get upset." Harry answered confidently.

"And will happen if I get…'upset'?" Severus raised an eyebrow and drawled slowly.

"Um… you will kick me out of your class?" he answered this time with less confidence, but said it in hopes that Mr. Nathraichean would deny the consequence. He didn't.

"And what will happen if I eject you from the classroom?"

"Er… you won't teach me anymore about Salazar and his system?"

"And what will happen if I stop teaching you to behave with the decorum befitting a student of Salazar?"

"I won't get any potential and I'll lose my family." Harry whispered, all the colour draining out of his face.

"And what would happen if you were no longer a responsibility of these…_'Kruegers'_?"

"I'd die… I'd just die." Harry said seriously, causing Severus to raise the other eyebrow.

"Truly Mister…_'Krueger'_, you actually believe that?"

Harry just nodded.

"Very well, we cannot go farther down that path, as 'dying' is the ultimate end for most people. Therefore, the result of not completing your homework tonight would be your eminent death. That alone should give you ample incentive to do a more thorough job."

"Yes Sir!" Harry nodded vehemently. "I won't let you down, believe me!"

"It is only yourself you would be letting down, that is what you must believe."

"Why?"

"Because if you don't believe in yourself, why should I, or anyone else for that matter? Isn't that what you want - for these…_'Kruegers' _to believe in you?" After asking the question, Severus turned his back and started to erase the board, giving his student time to think about it.

Harry didn't have a good answer for that one, but he did have a lot more questions. Only before he could ask any of them, Dudley burst through the door leading in the line of children back from the gymnasium where they had been playing dodge ball.

"Hey loser! Did you forget your brain again?" Dudley laughed seeing the words 'Do Study' as the teacher wiped them from the board. They had to be for his cousin – who else could be so stupid? His cutting jibe started the other children giggling who then added a few teasing remarks of their own. Except this time, instead of turning red and sliding down in his seat to hide from their taunts, Harry held up his chin and ignored them. His reward was a nod of approval from his teacher for his effort.

By the time that lunch rolled around, Harry was getting quite adept at pretending that chatter from the rest of the class was nothing more than slightly bothersome background noise, though it was harder to ignore the occasional spitball that was being sent his way by Dudley and his gang whenever the teacher turned his back. He knew that no matter how much he pretended Dudley didn't exist, it wouldn't make it so. He had tried it before, and while it worked temporarily, it never stuck for long. So on the way to the cafeteria, he stayed close to the Mr. Nathraichean's side, his book bag with the precious egg and his lunch, swinging safely between them. They were almost to the door of the large hall when the Principal's assistant hailed them from down the hallway.

"Oh… Jeffy-Poo! Wait for me! I'll eat with you!"

"I think she's talking to you, Mr. Nathraichean-Poo." Chloe spoke up helpfully from half way down the line while the entire class giggled at her rhyme. "Shouldn't we stop?"

"If Ms. Smythe indeed desired my attention, she would address me by my proper name as should you, wouldn't she Miss Miller? Now march! We mustn't keep the lunch staff waiting. Their fare is only passable when warm, cold it is inedible," Severus growled over his shoulder, knowing if they moved quickly there was no way the wanton woman could catch up to them in her tall spiky heels.

As they sprinted the last few meters to the cafeteria, Harry thought about disagreeing with Mr. Nathraichean's harsh assessment of the food. However, following the advice of Salazar, to get all the facts before making a decision, he wisely kept his mouth shut. He had found the cook's food to be very good on the few occasions that Uncle Remmy had treated him to breakfast there before school. Though since he had no experience with tasting the 'hot lunch', as Aunt Petunia had never wasted the money on him to purchase it, and Mrs. Krueger preferred to make his herself, he couldn't really say that was also true of the midday menu. But even if it wasn't, he had a special fondness for the head cook, as she would slip him chocolate milk every now and then from her special stash instead of regular (mostly when his cousin wasn't looking), and then tut-tut over how thin he was in a very grandmotherly way.

By the time that Ms. Smythe tottered into the hall, Mr. Nathraichean was once again scowling fiercely as he policed up and down between the tables trying to keep the children from repeating the food fight from the day before. However, he needn't have worried about that. His students were all more interested in the pending floor show between their teacher and the Principal's assistant than they were about throwing food at each other and possibly miss something good that they could tell their parents. With elbow nudges and whispers from ear to ear, soon the entire student body was watching.

"Oh Jeffy there you are! You must not have heard me!" Virgie simpered as she teetered over to him and clutched his arm for support.

"Quite the contrary Ms. Smythe, I just chose not to respond," he gave her the brush off.

"If you aren't careful, you'll hurt my feelings," she pouted prettily, pursing her lips to show off their fresh coat of red lipstick.

"I find that hardly likely, seeing as I have failed to even dent them - despite my best efforts." Severus said scathingly.

"Oh you big tease you! Since the fire, we've only seen each other at the staff meetings, and you never seem to notice that I've been saving a seat for you. Why don't you join me for lunch at the 'singles table' so we can get better acquainted?" Virgie coaxed, trying to lead him over to an empty table, which was crammed into a corner next to the sports equipment rack.

All of the little boys snickered. All of the little girls wondered what they would look like as flower girls at a wedding, with their hair pinned up and wearing floaty pink dresses.

"Singles table? Then I must decline." Severus said plucking her arm off from his with sharp fingertips and dropping it away from him like something that smelled bad.

"Decline? Oh my! But why? You aren't _married_ are you!" Virgie startled back as all the children gasped at the thought of their teacher actually having a life outside of school. "Wait a minute… have you been leading me on all this time?" she asked narrowing her eyes at him and poking a finger in his chest.

"Perish the thought that I should lead you anywhere Ms. Smythe. No, I am not married, I was simply stating that I…," Severus paused, only this time not for dramatic effect, but to evaluate the merits of telling a bold faced lie in front of his impressionable students. He opted for simply telling the truth in such a way as to allow Ms. Smythe to jump to the wrong conclusions on her own, justifying his actions with the motto that 'a spy must do what a spy must do' to keep his cover. Shaking his head firmly, he told her "…I cannot sit with you at a table designated for singles only." _'…or anywhere else for that matter.'_

"But if you're not married, and not single, that only leaves… OH! You poor man! A widower?" Virgie guessed putting a hand to her lips which were forming a shocked 'O'.

All the little girls listening sighed and wiped away a tear. All the little boys immediately lost interest and went back to seeing how many straws they could stuff up their noses.

Severus didn't even try to correct her. "Now I really must be going, the lunch period is about over, and I am giving my students a quiz when they return to class."

All the little girls gasped. All the little boys were roughhousing and none of them heard.

As Mr. Nathraichean swept out of the cafeteria, Harry grabbed his book bag and what was left of his lunch and jumped up to join him. There was no way was he going to be left behind without protection! Walking with him companionably back to class, Harry thought about this new information. His teacher had lost his wife. Harry knew how lonely it felt to be an orphan. Unconsciously he reached up and took his teacher's hand to comfort him. Mr. Nathraichean didn't seem to mind.

Carrying through on his impromptu excuse for leaving abruptly, Severus gave the children an oral quiz in geography as soon as class resumed, drilling them on every country from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe. Dudley didn't fare well as his tummy was too full of junk food to care which countries had rain forests and which had deserts. Harry proudly knew most of the answer, thanks to the Krueger's helpful geography game and for once, he wasn't shy about doing his best. He happily outshined not only Dudley but quite a few of the other kids as well.

That however, did not sit well with Dudley. He was sure Harry was cheating because he had never done better than him and he only boy in class who wasn't surprised by the pop quiz. Dudley scowled at his cousin from across the room – he was going to make Harry pay for embarrassing him!

While Dudley and his gang spent the afternoon recess plotting revenge, and hitting all the little girls as hard as they could with the dodge balls - Harry stayed protected from them, safe in his afternoon detention session.

Much to his dismay, his afternoon session was just more practice of not bothering the teacher while he graded the written math quiz that he had given right after the oral geography one. As the second hand of the clock ticked-tocked around the face of the clock for the umpteenth time, it was hard for Harry to stay quiet.

At the start of this detention, before Harry had had a chance to say anything at all, Mr. Nathraichean had ordered him to sit quietly without talking. Harry wanted to, only when Mr. Krueger had dropped him and Dudley off that morning, Mr. Krueger had ordered him to bring up Mrs. Krueger's request again for the parent-teacher meeting. Conflicted, Harry started squirming in his seat anyway.

"What part of 'sit still' did you not understand?" Severus asked without even looking up. Satisfied when the sounds of Potter moving abated, Severus went back to grading.

Harry sat as still as he could for as long as he could, but then started clearing his throat.

"What part of 'do not make any noise' escaped you?" Severus asked annoyed, too bad they were not at Hogwarts – he would have had him gainfully occupied scrubbing out cauldrons with a silencing charm over him. Then he would be able to get his work done.

"Er… Mr. Nathraichean?" Harry finally braved.

"Yes?"

"Er… mummy…Mrs. Krueger that is, she said to tell you that she does have an agenda."

"Oh really?" Severus looked up from the papers he was grading. Seeing that the boy did indeed intend to expound further he put down his red pen, leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingertips together and gave the boy his full attention, "I am rapt with anticipation Mister…_'Krueger'._ Please enlighten me as to this 'agenda'."

"Um… she said she wants to talk to you about…" Harry looked at the dark steely eyes of the teacher and faltered. He couldn't say it was about his teaching methods or his homework assignments. That would sound too much as if he had been whinging, and he really hadn't! There was only one thing left. "…er… about…about Arts and Crafts..."

"Is there some objection?"

"She… er… she thinks we should do them in class."

"Didn't your…_'mummy'_… teach this class last December? For less than one month I believe." He said in a low cool voice, his eyes narrowing to little dark slits.

Harry nodded affirmatively.

"Then tell 'mummy' that I do not need, nor do I solicit, advice on how to conduct my class. Especially, not from those whom obviously could not handle the position themselves."

"You want me to tell her _that_?" Harry squeaked with shock.

"Word for word," Severus confirmed, slowly enunciating each syllable. "Now does this 'mummy' have any more demands, or may I get back to the business of running my class as I see fit?"

"Er… no. That's all..." all he was going to admit to that is.

"Fine, I am glad we could settle the matter. You may resume silence now," he said picking up the red pen again and writing a very large 'D-' on the top of Dudley paper.

'_Hm… perhaps if I looked closer I could find enough to mark Dursley down to an 'F'. No, I've already wasted enough time on that one,' _he decided tossing it on the stack of graded papers and picking up the next one.

It wasn't until the final bell rang that Severus thought of the infamous 'Mummy Krueger' again. If he weren't careful, the interfering know-it-all would try to trap him into talking with her. With that in mind, he shooed everyone out quickly, everyone but Potter that is. He had to push Potter out the door to get him to leave. As soon as the classroom was clear, he locked the door and turned out the overhead lights, and not a moment too soon. Within a matter of seconds, he heard rapping and saw the door handle jiggle.

When he heard sound of a woman's voice and Potter pipe up to answer her with a 'but he was there just a minute ago!' then Dursley add a whingey 'who cares? I'm hungry!', and finally three sets of footsteps retreating down the hall, he smirked to himself at his cleverness in dealing with the situation in a completely muggle way - no muss no fuss.

Turning back on the lights, he sat down at his desk and thought about the day. He hadn't meant to be as nasty towards the boy that morning as he had been. But Merlin! Not study because the word started with an 's'? He started to get angry all over again and then realized that actually Potter's excuse had been a very Slytherin one and chuckled to himself instead. Then coming back from lunch he had felt the boy voluntarily put his small hand in his. It had startled him for just a moment or two and then he decided that it really wasn't bothering anything just to leave it there. In fact, it would have been more bother to have made him stop hanging on to him like a lost puppy.

The only incident of the day that still nagged at him was the lunchtime exchange with Ms. Smythe. Instead of jumping to the conclusion that he was already in a relationship as he intended, the blasted woman mistook him for a widower. The only way that would have been possible would have been if he had been the one Lily had wed, not James. No, that was not right. If Lily had been his wife he wouldn't be a widower,_ he_ would still be happily married,_ he_ would not have let the Dark Lord kill her. _He_ would have protected her… and their son. The mere thought of it, stabbed him in the heart.

Severus reached into his top desk drawer, pulled out the picture he had picked up on the playground, and regarded it thoughtfully. He had almost forgotten about the photo. The last time he had seen Lily was at their graduation at seventeen. Except in this picture, Harry was a newborn so Lily must have been about twenty or so. In just three years, the war had aged her until she looked closer to thirty. It saddened Severus to think about it, but who was he to talk? The toll of the war had added at least twenty years to his own face. However, Lily, his graceful loving Lily, had remained beautiful - right to the end.

After a few moments, he smoothed the curled edges with his long slim fingers, and propped it up against his coffee cup. It had surprised when he first noticed the scrap of paper was a wizarding photo, and of Potter and his parents no less. He used to have pictures of Lily until he burned them all when she rejected him. Too bad Potter's picture was so worn - time alone would account for that, unless of course, the boy continually slept with it under his pillow and hurried up the process, but that was ridiculous.

It didn't really matter how the photo got into its current well-fingered condition, the boy obviously looked at it often. He supposed he really should give it back... someday.

After a few minutes more, he carefully balanced an eraser up on end in front of it, blocking his view of the entire left hand side of the photo.

"That's better…"

He stared some more but was still somewhat dissatisfied. Squinting at it with first one eye, and then the other didn't satisfy him either, and before long, he got up and started pacing about the room.

"Surely, there must be something…"

In a stroke of inspiration, he went to the craft cupboard and unlocked it. Rummaging through the shelves, he found a small picture frame cut out of green construction paper and then glued on a cardboard backing. It was dotted around the rim with gobs of elbow macaroni, which had been liberally glued and then dipped in gaudy silver glitter.

"Ah… just the thing…"

Going back to his desk he carefully folded the left side of the picture under to fit, and mounted the rest of the photo into the frame. Then he set it up on the corner of his desk and leaned back with a sigh. Now only the smiling mother and her happy baby were visible in the frame, with only an occasional fingertip of the father edging in to mar the idyllic scene. Nevertheless, if he pretended… that could be anybody, even him.

"Still not quite right…" he said drumming his fingertips on the desktop.

After a bit more study, he got out his wand and flicked it at the photo, turning the black hair on the giggling baby to a deep lustrous auburn to match its mother.

"Much better, now he is completely out of the picture," he chuckled. "Too bad I can't do that to the actual child."

Flicking his wand at the photo a few more times, he chanted, 'Now you see him – now you don't', and then he sat back with a wide satisfied smirk.

"That was fun. I guess glitter is good for something after all."

Several blocks away, Lily dropped the cup she was carrying with a crash and screamed, causing James to pop his head upside down from the loft doorway to see what had happened.

"Lily! Are you all right?"

"James! James! Come down here…NOW!" Lily stood there with her mouth gaping open and slowly raised her hand to point through the open door of their bedroom towards Holly, who was in her crib, energetically practicing the art of rolling over.

"Is something wrong with Holly?" James asked concerned, this time the whole of him coming down the stairs, with Sirius and Remus following close behind.

"Our daughter… our daughter is a metamorphmagus," she finally gasped out in awe.

They all crowded around her crib and watched with fascination as her hair flashed back and forth between red and black.

Holly, loving all the attention, just cooed prettily, spit up, and then gummed on her toes.

"Who wants to bet a galleon it sticks on red?" Sirius asked only to have James whop him on the back of the head, while Remus signalled him behind James back that he'd take the bet.

When it finally stopped changing, Lily ran her fingers through the messy red hair now framing her daughter's giggling baby face instead of her normal raven locks and said, "It looks like we might have another redhead in the family, at least for now."

"Aw, noooooo! Holly! Change it back! Pretty pleeeeasssse? For Daddy?" James pleaded with disappointment, sinking to his knees and peering through the bars of the crib as one condemned. "Your hair was the only thing about you that looked like me!"

"Don't worry James," Remus chuckled observing that Holly's baby fine hair was sticking up in every direction possible, "she still has your hairstyle."

"Shouldn't have taken the bet..." Sirius laughed as he collected his galleon from Remus.

Harry and Dudley who had heard all the shouting had come running in to see what was going on. Dudley was not impressed. His mother had been known to turn her hair from platinum blond to dark brunette in a matter of minutes, just because the 'new look' would show off her new dress better - all it took was a bottle of hair dye. He turned around and left shaking his head and muttering about 'mini-freaks', but taking the opportunity while everyone was otherwise occupied, to slip upstairs to play on his computer.

Harry looked at Holly seriously concerned. He knew she was too young to be playing with hair dye, but how else could it have changed so quick? Once he had made his hair grow overnight when Aunt Petunia had chopped it off, and she called him a sick-o freak.

"Is she ill?" he asked of no one in particular, just giving voice to his concern.

"No sweetie. Holly is fine." Lily smiled at him and picked Holly up from her crib. "Your father now… that's another matter. It may take him a bit to recover."

"Why? What's he got? Is it bad?" Harry asked worriedly glancing over at his dad who was still staring numbly at Holly and doing a fair impression of a fish by mouthing the words 'No! No! No!' over and over again.

Lily, following his gaze had to laugh. "Ha-ha! No Harry, he's fine too. I shouldn't have said that. He isn't ill. He just needs to come to grips with your sister's new ability."

"New ability?"

"Um… yes. You see Harry in the wizarding world we have a few very special people who are metamorphmaguses. These people have the ability to change their appearance at will, and it looks as though your sister is one of these very special people." Lily said fondly ruffling her daughters auburn curls.

"So will she always have hair like yours now?"

"It's hard to say, it's up to her no matter how much your father pleads for her to change it back. And since she's not talking yet, we'll just have to wait and see what she does," Lily said blowing a kiss on Holly's fat little tummy that set her off giggling again.

Harry smiled. He liked to hear Holly giggle. When she was, he just felt better about everything. It didn't matter to him what colour her hair was. He loved her anyway.

After Remus and Sirius managed to peel James off the floor they went looking for 'the Dudster' as they finally decided to call him, all the other names they had come up with – Diddydummy – Dummykins – Diddledope – Dudderino - and Fuddy-duddy – having been discarded after much negative head shaking and irritated toe tapping by Lily. When they found him in the loft, he was so deep into blasting alien spaceships to smithereens on his computer that he didn't hear them come up behind him. When they suddenly spoke in his ear he about fell out of the chair.

"Hey Dudster! You're really good at that." Remus said admiringly. While Sirius had monopolized the telly all day (to 'do important research' as he put it), Remus had been trying to figure out how to turn on the computer without success. He tried every key combination on the keyboard imaginable, without once noticing the little button on the side that had the word 'power' stamped on it.

"Thanks. Now leave me alone." Dudley growled and restarted his game.

"Don't be like that Dudster," Sirius said clapping a hand down on his shoulder, refusing to be put off. "We just want to be your friends."

"What makes you think I want you as friends?" Dudley sniped.

"Because Dudster, for the time being, you belong to us. That means whenever you aren't sleeping or in school, we will be glued to your side, so you might as well get used to it. We're your new best friends, and we have the entire weekend ahead of us to get to know each other better. Now why don't you show us how that game of yours works, or would you rather entertain us this evening by writing some more lines?"

"Fine. What do you want to know?" Dudley groused.

"How'd you get him to do that?" Remus asked amazed at the change.

"Don't look so shocked Moony. I know you're the teacher, but I have a certain knack with children myself. I find it's not the question, it's all in how you ask it." Sirius grinned evilly from ear to ear. Remus grinned back and told Dudley to 'schooch over' so he could sit next to him, and he could show him how to turn the computer box off and on.

Dudley was getting quite cranky from sugar withdrawal by this time, and just muttered 'big freakin whoop' under his breath and glowered at them both. This whole 'uncle' business was getting _real_ old _real_ fast, and he hadn't agreed to any of it! When his parents get back from Holiday, they were going to owe him, and he was going to make sure they paid up! Big time!


	10. A Patchwork Egg: part 5

Dudley's negativism towards them did not sway Sirius and Remus from their plans as they took their promise to Lily very seriously. Cheerily they proceeded to gang up on him the entire weekend.

The first thing Sirius did was to officially appropriate Dudley's telly as being detrimental to his young charge. In the few days that he'd had Dudley's things stashed upstairs, Sirius had managed to get hooked on soap operas, talk shows, and the Teletubbies (the later he said he watched purely for Holly's benefit). As he carried the television into his bedroom, where 'he could keep an better eye on it', Sirius informed Dudley he was doing it for his own good, as he had heard on a talk show that watching too much telly was harmful to children's eyesight... or maybe it was their I.Q. No matter both were bad.

Upon hearing this theory later, James wondered if the same held true for men who acted like children, but decided he would rather Sirius was hooked on Teletubbies over his previous occupation of trying to teach Holly how to say 'Padfoot'. His darling daughter had her godfather so wrapped around her pinkie finger now that whenever she said 'kama' he would come running, if she ever managed to say 'Pa-fo' – Merlin help him!

Remus, in the meantime, had grown fascinated with the potential of Dudley's computer. If only he could come up with a way to have it talk to other computers and share information. Maybe a program where he could type in a few key words and it would go out and search all the other computers for information that related to it. It would make locating Severus Snape so much easier. Why, he'd probably be able to find him in hours instead of years! The possibilities were endless!

When he mentioned this idea to Sirius, Sirius just scoffed at him and told him he'd been hanging out in the muggle world too long. It would never work - computers talking to other computers, those metallic muggle inventions of wires and tubes – as if they had brains of their own? Ha-ha! Not even magic could make that possible. What other harebrained ideas would he think up? Muggle telephones without wires tying them to the wall? Remus just sighed. Perhaps the world wasn't ready for his ideas yet.

Keeping two nine-year-olds cooped up inside all weekend for their own protection, was tiring on the adults. By Sunday evening, they were all exhausted heaps of protoplasm lounging about the living room. Remus and Sirius flat out just didn't want to think anymore. They hadn't realized that being full time parents was going to be so difficult. Everything they had suggested – Dudley did the opposite, and if they got clever and suggested the opposite, he did what they suggested (Sirius was sure that was just to spite them). None of the child psychology books that Remus had read had included an example quite like their 'widdle Dudster-wudster'.

James while being overly amused as his friend's plight was less amused at his own. He had been looking forward to bonding with his son and getting to the root of what was bothering him, but Harry held himself distantly from him, seeming to be in a world of his own. Oh, he was polite enough – _too_ polite. He was attentive enough – _too_ attentive. Then there were all those times he sealed himself in the bathroom, until James got so concerned that he threatened to take him to the doctor. That was when Harry finally confessed that he wasn't ill - he was 'practicing'. When he asked him what he was practicing, Harry just said that 'it was nothing really' that he was just practicing his posture. When James said his posture was just fine and didn't need sixteen hours of practicing a day, Harry chanted back 'if I'm not practicing I'm wasting time' as if it were a mantra to live by. James frowned at the snarky little comment. It really wasn't like Harry to say that, but the words and attitude and was familiar. Where had he heard it before?

Totally refreshed from her after dinner nap, Lily stretched and yawned lazily as she wandered in from the bedroom. Expecting to find her family engrossed in a rousing game to let out some of their pent up energy, she had to laugh when instead she found the three men draped all over each other on the comfy couch doing fair impressions of limp root vegetables. Taking pity on them, she plucked Holly up off from the floor where she was trying to eat one of James' socks, and motioned for the two boys to follow her into the kitchen. Maybe a little family Easter project would help occupy their time.

Lily was just grateful that at least the weather had been stormy so they had a good excuse for not taking the children outside. Not that Harry complained, but Dudley was restless without his friends to play with. During the week, they justify it as a 'school night', but the weekend made it harder to come up with a plausible excuse. However, until they knew exactly what was going on in the wizarding world, it wasn't safe to expose their family. And nephew or not, Lily wasn't sure how much of their situation she wanted to tell him, or rather how much of the information she trusted him with after he was willing to turn his cousin over to the first Death Eater who left his calling card.

After securing Holly safely in her high chair, Lily pushed the vase of pussy willows that James had gathered for her from the centre of the table and handed Harry a pile of newspapers to cover the surface. She then got out six large cups, two for each of them, one filled with warm water and one with vinegar. Then she retrieved a sack of little red, blue, and yellow crepe paper squares and circles that she had hidden in the pantry the week before, and lastly a large bowl of eggs she had boiled before her nap.

"What's that for?" Dudley pulled a face and poked a pudgy finger at the colourful squares. It looked suspiciously like 'Arts and Crafts' to him. He hated Arts and Crafts. He only came willingly because he thought his aunt was going to give him a snack.

"Haven't either of you coloured Easter eggs before?" Lily was shocked at the blank look on Harry's face and the disinterested one on Dudley's. As a girl, she had always loved colouring eggs in the spring, and remembered fondly many a lively colouring session with her sister Tuney - making the prettiest eggs that they could to surprise their mother.

"Sure loads of times - but it's for babies. I'm too grown up for things like that." Dudley said proudly puffing out his chest. "And Mum says why bother with all the mess when she can buy them at the store already done. Besides I like the chocolate ones better." Dudley said turning his nose up at the bowl of real eggs before him.

"How about you Harry? Do you still like colouring?" Lily asked her quiet son after noticing him fingering the still damp surfaces of the eggs.

Thinking he'd done something wrong, Harry pulled back the finger as if he had touched a hot burner, and confessed, "I don't know. I've never coloured an egg Mrs. Krueger."

Lily sucked in air between her teeth at the title, but then shook it off before the urge to go in and curse James could take too strong a hold. "You haven't? But Dudley said…"

"Oh mum never let him touch things like that." Dudley butted in to verify. "She said holiday things were just for family, and that Harry was too clumsy anyway. She said he would just ruin her carpets by getting dye all over. Guess you don't have to worry about that here." Dudley said wisely, eyeing the clean but bare floor with a grimace.

"Oh she did, did she? Well then Dudley, since you are 'too old' for colouring, Harry and I will do the eggs and you can supervise since you already know everything."

Harry, who had been staring at the tabletop embarrassed, looked up with shock. Was Mrs. Krueger actually going to let him colour eggs - even after hearing how Aunt Petunia said he would ruin everything if allowed to help? Wow! That had never happened before! Harry promised himself to try very hard to make sure she would not her regret her decision. He thought it looked like fun, babyish or not. As he happily reached for an egg, his stomach did a flip-flop at the next thing he heard her say.

"And while we colour, you can tell me just what else Harry wasn't allowed to do at your house." Lily said sweetly to her informative nephew, while purposely turning her back to Harry so she didn't have to see his pleading looks imploring her please to stop.

Lily was tired of tiptoeing around the subject. If they were ever going to understand Harry's insecurities they needed to know what her son's life had been like on Privet Drive. Only every time she or James brought it up, Harry would get a shuttered look in his eyes and grow quiet. Concerned, they had tried to find out from the Dursley's, but they had been less than forthcoming. If she were to believe Petunia, they treated Harry as a beloved second son. Lily loved her sister, but she didn't trust her, and she highly doubted most of what she said about Harry's upbringing, as it did little to explain why the happy and outgoing baby she remembered was now the complete opposite.

After the bunk-bed fiasco, she and James decided they couldn't keep operating in the dark, and to take advantage of Dudley's being there to pry some information out of him. At the same time, Lily didn't think it was a wise idea to hide their interrogation of Dudley as it might make Harry distrust them and shut himself off even more. Out in the open like this, he had the opportunity to deny anything Dudley said, or even better, to add his own perspective, which is what she really wanted. She would try to make the discussion as non-threatening for him as possible, but she did not intend to stop… not this time.

Remembering Harry's love of art, Lily tried to put him at ease by getting him busy with something else to think about by showing him how to colour the eggs, first by dipping them in the water to dampen the shell, and then by putting the bits of crepe paper on its shell to dye it. She told him that if he used more than one colour he could mix the dyes to make his own shades. The longer the paper stayed on the shell, the more dye that it would absorb and the brighter the colour. Then she explained how porous the shell was.

Harry knew that from the _'How to Hatch an Egg for Dummies' _book his godfathers had checked out of the library for him. That was why he had to keep his egg damp – so that the little creature inside could drink, but not so damp that it drowned, it was a delicate balance. It was also, why he had to be careful not to get anything on the shell – as some things like lead, could transfer through to the live embryo and make it ill, or even kill it.

Lily then explained that once the egg was the colour he wanted, he was to peel off the papers and dunk the coloured egg in the cup of vinegar to set the dye and then lay it on a clean paper plate while it dried. She then made Holly spit out the papers she had happily put in her mouth, saying that dye wasn't good for little girls to eat either.

Trying to ignore his cousin's chatter, Harry occupied himself by helping Holly to decorate a few. Of course, he ended up taking more of the paper back out of her mouth than what she got on the egg. However, Lily even praised her enthusiastic baby attempts, which made Dudley envious and regretting his claim, that he was too old for such things.

He had thought it was going to be hard to do, since this wasn't how his mum had showed him. She had always used boiling hot water and liquid dye, and then hovered over him every minute, afraid he might burn himself. Except that after watching his cousins colour a few, he knew that even he could have done it this way.

The more fun that his cousins had, the more jealous Dudley became that he wasn't the centre of attention and getting all of Auntie Lily's praise. The more jealous he became, the louder and more colourful his stories of how 'Harry had always ruined this' and how Harry had always ruined that' became as well. Even to the point of supplying the missing details of just what his parents had deemed as 'suitable' punishments to fit his cousin's innumerable 'crimes'. Whenever Lily started to wonder how much he was exaggerating, all she had to do was take one look at her son's alternately pale or flushed face, and to realize that unfortunately Dudley wasn't straying that far from the truth.

In a nutshell, the Dursleys had made Harry feel like an unwanted interloper who was nothing more than an annoying burden they had to deal with, rather than a welcome member of their family. He had to work hard for whatever little they allowed him to have, and even that they gave begrudgingly. Lily suspected even a servant would have been treated better, as they would have at least been paid for their work and have occasional time off. It was no wonder her lonely little boy had built such high walls around his heart.

To Lily's dismay, no matter what Dudley said, Harry remained silent. It was as if he totally agreed with the Dursley's assessment that anything that had ever gone wrong at Privet Drive had always been his fault. For that reason, he believed that he deserved the shabby treatment he had received from them.

As Lily relentlessly grilled her nephew, the curious Marauders overhearing from the living room, managed to peel themselves off the couch and had languidly sauntered into the kitchen under the pretext of helping to finish colouring the eggs. Mostly their contribution was acting as human canvases for Holly, who was happily gumming the papers and sticking them to anyone and anything she could reach with her fat little baby fingers. She would pat the coloured squares onto their arms and then squeal with glee, to have them completely forgive her when she turned her endearing little toothless grin at them.

"So how is it that you ended up with two bedrooms Dudley? Most kids only have one… if that…" Lily led cautiously into the subject, watching Harry out of the corner of her eye and feeling sympathy pains when she saw him shrink a bit inside himself at the question.

The Marauders all sat up, alert at the turn in the conversation. How it had come about, that Harry had ended up sleeping in the little cupboard under the stairs, instead of the bedroom upstairs next to Dudley, was a topic that had them all more than a little curious, and one they had never received a satisfactory explanation for, from either Harry, or the Dursleys. Vernon going so far as to completely deny it was ever Harry's bedroom in the first place, claiming instead that his nephew was overly fond of playing hide and seek.

He benevolently maintained he had put the old crib mattress in the cupboard to make it more comfortable for his 'darling nephew', as it was Harry's favourite hiding spot. Vernon said Harry would often hide in there even when no one else realized he was playing, so it sometimes took awhile _… (ahem)… _days to notice and to 'find' him.

When James challenged him to explain why they had found the cupboard locked from the outside and Harry left there forgotten, Vernon shook his head sadly and said that had just been an unfortunate 'accident'. He said that they truly thought he was safely asleep upstairs in the bunk beds. Then he started moaning long and loud about how his efforts to pamper the boy were now being misconstrued and unappreciated. Had James knew then, what he knew now, how the very thought of sleeping in the bunks gave Harry panic attacks he would have called Vernon out on his lie. But as it was, he had to let it drop when Vernon slung his meaty arm around Harry's shoulders and jovially asked "Isn't that right boy?" giving him a hearty squeeze, and Harry responded by hanging his head and quietly agreed with a "Yes, Uncle Vernon that's right." James was quite keen on hearing Dudley's answer to this particular question.

"Ha-ha! That was a good trick!" Dudley chortled out loud obviously proud of himself.

"Good trick? We all like a good prank, don't we Moony?" Sirius said slowly tipping his chair back and putting his heels up on the table while at the same time trying not to look too interested for Harry's benefit. "Tell us all about it Dudster, so we can all enjoy it."

"Well it was really funny – see when I was real little, like five, my friends were over and we were having fun and playing zoo like always, but then they started teasing me that I had to share _my _bedroom with the fr… er… with _Harry_ and his _baby crib _and that made me mad." Dudley punctuated this correction by sticking his tongue out at his cousin.

Harry blushed bright red, and prayed Dudley wouldn't mention the rest.

"A baby crib? But Harry is only a month or so younger than you… wouldn't he have been about five too? A little bit old for a crib it seems to me." Remus observed.

'_Thanks loads for pointing that out Uncle Remmy.'_ Harry muttered under his breath, not a bit grateful for the unwanted attention.

"I dunno… I just know Mum always made him stay in it when I was playing with my friends so he wouldn't get in our way."

"_Always_? How'd she do that?" Sirius asked with a shudder, flashing on Azkaban.

"Oh Dad fixed it with bars on the top so he couldn't climb out. Me and my friends would pretend he was a stupid monkey in the zoo and we'd stick things through the bars at him. Then we'd pull them back real quick when he tried to grab them. It was really fun!"

"Oh really…" all the adults said in unison raising their eyebrows in shock.

Dudley didn't even notice their disapproving expressions as he continued. "Yeah it was loads of fun, till my friends started teasing me about still having a crib in my room that is, then I wanted him out. So I threw a REALLY big tantrum and Mum and Dad got mad."

"At you?"

"Me? Of course not!" Dudley rolled his eyes at the thought of his parents ever getting angry with him. "They got mad at Harry."

"Harry? Why they'd get mad at Harry if you were the one throwing the tantrum?"

"Because they knew Harry was waaaay jealous of me," Dudley smirked, "and that's why he did it."

"Did what?"

"He made all my toys stick to the ceiling where I couldn't get them!"

"No I didn't." Harry denied it so quietly the adults would have missed it entirely if Dudley hadn't squealed like a stuck pig in protest.

"YOU DID TOO! I said 'Don't you touch my toys' and YOU DID! And Dad turned red!"

"…did not… and it was purple…" Harry wished they would all just drop it, or that he could melt into a puddle and seep through the floorboards and escape… or both.

"Not that you aren't a fine boy to be envied Dudster," Remus said to butter him up and get a little more information, even if it was regrettably at Harry's expense, "but why would you think he'd be so jealous of you, that he would make all your toys stick to the ceiling?"

"Because all the toys were mine and the fr… er…Harry wanted them because all he had was a stinky old baby blanket. It wasn't even any good. It was all patched together."

Make that definitely both. Harry would have slouched down in his chair but Salazar and Mr. Nathraichean wouldn't be happy if he did. He settled on staring dismally at the table.

"I didn't know you still had your baby blanket!" Lily turned to Harry with hope in her heart, as she remembered hand stitching every patch with love. She had even embroidered a tiny family tree with all their names, along with Harry's date of birth, on the centre patch. Finally a connection! That blanket was solid undeniable proof to her little boy that she had always loved him and wanted to be his mummy. Only she couldn't catch Harry's eyes. He was too busy studying the fascinating grain of the wooden tabletop.

"Nah… Mum burned it." Suddenly noticing the frowns surrounding him, Dudley quickly justified his mom's actions by holding his nose and adding, "I told you it was stinky!"

James, seeing that Lily was starting to lose her temper, quickly turned the topic back to the question of the two rooms. "So why again did that justify you having two rooms?"

"Because they put him in the third bedroom and it was the same size as _**my**_ room!"

"That sounds reasonable." Remus nodded. "So why not let him stay there?"

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. _'Aren't they ever going to stop?' _They kept talking about him as if he wasn't even in the room, just as the Dursleys always did.

"I just told you why! _Because…_ that room was the _**exact same size as my room**_!" Dudley rolled his eyes. For a teacher, 'Uncle Remmy' could be awfully dense.

"So why was that a problem? It sounds fair to Harry." Remus asked pressing his point.

"Because it _wasn't fair to me_! That's why! It would have meant he is just as good as me." Dudley said his piggy eyes getting small and hard at the thought. "And he's NOT! Besides Dad decided Aunt Marge needed that room for when she came to visit."

"Oh really?" Lily, still fuming, asked distractedly. James could practically see her thinking _'Petunia could have just laundered the baby blanket!' _Instead, she asked, "Does she visit a lot then? I thought she was too busy to get away from the kennels often."

"Not so much - once a year, maybe twice is all. But that's okay, 'cause when she comes she always brings Ripper with her…" Harry pulled a face at the mention of the bulldog that like to chase him up trees. "…and I have to dress up in suits." Dudley pulled a face himself at that thought. "But she does bring me presents when she comes," he hinted.

"So instead of it being put to good use year round by Harry, they left it empty so Marge could stay in it when she occasionally came to visit."

"Yup," Dudley confirmed. "…she brings me _**lots**_ of presents. She's a _**nice**_ aunt."

"So when they moved Harry out of the third bedroom, why didn't they let him stay in the fourth bedroom?"

James remembered Dudley's second (though much smaller) room that at the very least by right should have been his son's. When they had moved Dudley into the flat, and had gone back to Privet Drive to gather his things, that room had been stuffed full of broken toys. There wasn't even anything in it that Dudley had put on his lengthy list of things he 'couldn't live without'. It had made him see red to find out that Dudley had a whole room in which to save junk, while they tossed his son in the cupboard under the stairs, as if they were going to discard him at the curb on the next rubbish collection day.

"Because Mum promised me I could have it." Dudley stuck out his chin defensively. "You know - to make up for them letting Harry stay in the third bedroom in the first place. Mum said that growing boys need lots of room, so their creativity can grow along with them," he puffed up proudly, not once thinking about how incongruous his words were to his current activity of being the sole non-creative person at the table.

"So what creative things do you do at home that you don't do here?" Sirius asked curiously. From what he had observed, once the Dudster plopped himself somewhere, he rarely moved again, and you certainly didn't need two rooms in which to do nothing.

"Oh lots of things… I play on my computer and have friends sleep over, stuff like that."

James frowned, "But surely you don't need _two_ bedrooms for that."

"Oh but I do Uncle! I _need_ _**all**_ that room! Otherwise, where would I put all my funny money toys? I have to put them _**somewhere**_don't I?" Dudley asked rolling his eyes at what he considered the stupidest question he had ever heard. Wouldn't these people ever get real? Sighing when all he got were blank looks, he explained further, "Dad said I couldn't throw them out, because someone might see how many I had and start to wonder how I got them, because they would want some of the funny money too."

"Funny money toys? What are those?" Lily prodded at the odd terminology.

"You know… don't you?" At the blank looks showing that they obviously didn't, Dudley sighed heavily. Did he have to explain _everything_? "All the toys Mum and Dad bought me. They were supposed to be better than toys bought with_ real_ money, 'cause they didn't cost Dad anything. At least that's what Mum said." Dudley shrugged.

"If these toys were free, why not just get Harry some of them too? It seems to me that would have been a good solution. That way, no one would need to be jealous." Sirius commented, only to get dark looks from Harry and incredulous ones from Dudley.

"How dorky can you get?" Dudley snorted.

"Dudley! Don't call your Uncle Siri a dork." James admonished him. "Only I get to do that. But answer the question anyway."

"Cause Harry's a _F-R-E-A-K _that's why!"

"Dudley Dursley! _What_ did you just spell?" Lily gasped.

"Well you _**told**_ me I couldn't _**say**_ it!" Dudley said in frustration.

"I didn't say you could spell it either!" James growled.

"That's not _**my**_ fault! And you_** made**_ me answer the question!" Dudley screamed. "I can't do anything right around here! I don't even wanna be here! I wanna go home! NOW!"

Dudley held his breath and pounded on the table, making all the eggs rattle dangerously.

Harry gasped is dismay, and as he reached out to rescue them, the eggs started flying out of the dish pelting everyone at high speed. Dudley pointed at him accusingly and yelled, "See! There he goes again! I told you _**it's all**_ _**his**_ fault! He _**is**_ jealous of me! _**HE IS**_! _**HE IS**_! This is what always happens!"

Holly giggled at all the activity and wanting to be part of the fun she waved her fat little baby arms. The colourful eggs stop abruptly in midair and danced.

All the adults just looked at each other, unsure just whose magic had just done what.

"Don't look at me!" the Marauders all said in unison, and then at the delighted baby squeal from the youngest member, they turned to stare at Holly. She had a halo of Easter eggs floating in lazy circles around her head as she cooed serenely at them.

When Dudley realized he was no longer the focus of attention, he crossed his arms, stuck out his lower lip, and pouted.

Lily gave James a meaningful look and nodded at Dudley. Lily wasn't done yet. She wanted more information out of her nephew, and if James didn't want to sleep on the couch, he had to make that happen somehow. James gritted his teeth as he levitated the undamaged eggs back into the bowl, and vanished the rest of the mess, giving him time to steel his resolve to 'make nice' with his bratty nephew.

"Dudley…" James took a deep breath and ploughed on. "I'm sorry I snapped at you like that. You're right. I asked you to answer Sirius' question, and you just answered it how your parents had taught you. That's not your fault, and you did do it in such a way that you didn't break your promise to me that you would behave yourself. So let's just agree that that word doesn't belong in this house - _in any form_. Okay?"

"Okay. That's was all I was saying." Dudley said trying to sound hurt, and wondering if he could get any more leverage out of it than just a dinky apology, maybe a new toy...

Harry closed his eyes while he listened with a sinking heart. For a moment, he had a spark of hope when the Kruegers had yelled at Dudley. Only there it was again… Dudley was the good boy, and Harry was the bad, and he wasn't wanted here… in _any _form.

"You know…" Dudley mused, still thinking about toys, "…I still don't get it."

"Get what Dudley?" Lily asked opening up the conversation again.

"Why Mum and Dad always waited till the funny money showed up in that special envelope before they'd buy me any of the big toys I wanted. I mean they got me treats anytime, and tons of toys. But why'd they always make me wait for the really cool ones like my computer and telly and stuff? It's like they thought there was somethin' wrong with the money. I don't know why - it spent just fine. Hey! That reminds me… Mr. Nastyman still hasn't given me back my Game Boy. I think he stole it for himself! If I had a new Game Boy I'd be real happy - even here," he hinted without any subtly at all.

"That's 'Mr. Nathraichean', and what envelope?" Lily asked, ignoring the toy request.

"Yeah… the one that Dad keeps locked in the safe in their bedroom. When the funny money shows up in it, they dance around laughing, and then stay up all night deciding what to buy with it."

"And why would they buy you toys with 'funny money'? Isn't that illegal?" Remus asked puzzled. The only thing he could think of called 'funny money' was muggle counterfeit bills. Wizarding money didn't have that issue because Gringotts had it all spelled so that if you tried to duplicate their coins they would just evaporate after an hour or so as if they had been made of leprechaun gold.

"Dad said it's okay as long as the Tax Man doesn't find out. So we always spend it real fast, mostly on toys for me because Mum says I'm special and I deserve _lots_ of special things." Dudley said excitedly. "But sometimes Dad buys new golf clubs or Mum buys new clothes. I wanted to go on holiday with it, but we couldn't because of _him_," he added glaring at Harry. Harry opened one eye and glared back, all the money arriving ever meant to him was that they'd lock him in the cupboard while they went shopping.

"Why not? Your family could have lived it up in Majorca every month at Harry's expense." James growled with his jaw tight.

He knew exactly what Dudley had meant by an envelope of 'funny' money, and why Vernon felt the need to conceal it. Even though Sirius had declared categorically, that should anything ever happen to the Potters, he wouldn't never take a cent for raising Harry, he and Lily had made provisions in their will that a generous monthly stipend be paid from their vaults in that eventuality.

James and Lily knew that despite Sirius' good intentions, that the future was uncertain, and that sometimes things happened for which you can't plan, point in case – them having been declared dead while they vegetated in comas for years. They certainly hadn't planned on that. They had wanted to be sure to take care of their son, no matter what happened. No doubt, the envelope of 'funny money' was in actuality the gold galleons intended for Harry's care. Instead, the Dursley's had splurged it on their selves and Dudley.

"Because it would have ruined our whole Holiday if we had to drag the fr… uh… _him_ along. Mum said if we were gone more than three days in a row we couldn't just leave him in the cupboard like normal. She said she had to find someone to watch him. You know - so he didn't burn down the house or something."

"…thank Merlin for small favours…" Lily sniped at her absent sister.

"Yeah… Mum didn't want to use up any favours by asking her friends to take him, and the crazy old cat lady couldn't always take him off of our hands."

"Crazy old cat lady?"

"Yeah, ha-ha! She always forgets to get dressed and she has all these really mean cats. We throw rocks at 'em." Dudley unwisely disclosed.

"She's NOT CRAZY! She's MY FRIEND! And her cats aren't mean, they just don't like you!" Harry surprised everyone by springing to his feet to defend Mrs. Figg and her cats.

"Ha-ha! Your _friend_?" Dudley's rolls of pudge rumbled with laughter. "That just proves it! A person would haft to be crazy to be your friend! Ha-ha!"

"DUDSTER! That is QUITE enough! Cut it out now!" Sirius ordered sternly, stopping all but a few remaining guffaws, his very parental tone shocking even him.

"Sorry…can't! It really is just too funny! Har-Harry thinks he has a friend!" Dudley chortled wiping away a few stray tears.

"She IS my friend! She even saved Ruby…" Harry suddenly stopped shouting and bit his lip. It wouldn't do to remind his cousin of the beautiful red bicycle. He may demand her back!

"She saved who?" Dudley asked suspiciously knowing whenever Harry shuts up like that he's hiding something.

"No one. Never mind. You're right… I-I don't have any friends." Harry said quietly sitting back down and reaching for the last egg to colour with a shaky hand.

"Nonsense, I'm sure this _very nice _cat lady is a _very good_ friend." Lily said encouragingly handing him some more of the brightly coloured squares. "We could go visit her some day if you want," she offered and was gratified to receive a small smile back.

"I'd like that Ma'am." Harry said shyly.

"I'm not going! Her house smells like cabbage!" Dudley said sticking his nose in the air.

"Who said you were invited?" Lily returned sweetly to receive an outright grin and a pleased snicker from Harry as her reward. Encouraged, Lily made an inspired offer that would also resolve the mystery egg-hatchling dilemma.

"You know Harry, if you like her cats so much, maybe we could ask her if she has a kitten she would part with. Then you wouldn't have to worry about taking care of that …"

"**NO!"** Harry yelled in panic, his stomach clenching at the thought of Dudley hearing about the egg he was tending. "I mean… no, no thank you Mrs. Krueger."

Dudley looked at Harry sideways out of the corner of his eye. He knew Harry well enough to read the signs, his cousin has done something stupid again and he was worried about anyone knowing. Something fishy was definitely going on and Dudley made up his mind to figure out what it was, he needed some new blackmail material.

James was struggling as well to piece together all the bits of information that Dudley had been throwing out, so he completely missed the meaningful look Lily shot him telling him to drop the inquisition while Harry was finally looking a little happier. She had wanted to end it on an up note for him, but James, true to his nature, forged ahead oblivious.

"Dudley… you never did answer the question. Why did your parents end up putting my son in the cupboard under the stairs instead of one of the upstairs bedrooms?"

Harry tried not to sigh. He was grateful the topic changed away from the egg that he was hatching, before Dudley found out all about it, but did it have to change back to _that_ one?

"'cause it was practical."

"Practical?"

"Yup, like my dad always said: 'wasted space for the waste-of-space'."

'_Finally, there it is.' _Harry thought morosely trying to do the melt-into-a-puddle-and-escape-through-the-floorboards trick and failing miserably. _'Now they all know.'_

"He did, did he?"

"Uh-huh… and Mum said it was a perfect place for him since all the cleaning supplies were stored in there too, so he didn't have to waste time getting them to do his chores."

"Just what all chores did he do?"

"Oh just the normal stuff – you know." Dudley shrugged.

"No, I don't know. So tell me."

"Okay… let's see… just a little cooking, cleaning, laundry, and yard work… nuthin' much really, just enough to make him earn his keep Dad said."

"_Earn his keep_?" James bit back angrily, if his brother-in-law knew what was good for him, he would plead guilty and stay in prison. "And you did these same chores?"

"Of course not!" Dudley's mouth gaped open at the concept. "I don't have chores!"

"Why not? Seems to me if Harry had to do them, you should have to too." Remus pointed out, ever the one to champion the idea of equality for all.

"'cause Mum and Dad made him do mine too!"

"Why on earth did they do that?"

"To make him pay me back for _hundreds and hundreds_ of toys he stole from me!" Dudley nodded vehemently, but at the disbelieving looks on the faces of all the adults and the incredulous look on Harry's, he guiltily revised it slightly, "okay okay, so maybe it wasn't _that_ many... but it was _**my**_yo-yo, and I didn't say he could touch it!"

"But it was broken!"

"Just the string was all!"

"You threw it out the window! _You_ didn't even want it." Harry protested.

"Yo-yos are supposed to come back! I was just testing it out!" Dudley yelled.

"That a boomerang you idiot!" Harry muttered under his breath, rubbing his head as he remembered how Dudley had 'tested it out' by purposely conking him in the head with it while he was below working in the garden. He'd woken up with a whopping large lump on the back of his head and Uncle Vernon towering over him, yelling at him for lying down sleeping when he hadn't finished weeding yet.

"Doesn't matter! It was still mine! You're not supposed to touch anything that's mine! So there!" Dudley said crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue again.

James really wanted to hex that tongue. If Dudley stuck it out one more time at his son, he wasn't sure if he would be able to stop himself from doing it. Only Lily's restraining hand on his arm made his let go of his wand.

"Okay, let me see if I have this straight… your parents kept my son confined for the first half of the eight years he lived with you, giving you and your friends free reign to torment him mercilessly. Then your mother burned his only possession, your father stole all the money intended for his upbringing, then they both tossed him into a cupboard for the last four years - when they weren't working him to death. And all of that just for wanting to play with a broken yo-yo that you had already thrown away?"

"Well when you put it like that Uncle James it sounds really bad." Dudley pouted defensively.

"Ya' think Dudster?" Sirius asked raising an eyebrow at the understatement.

"Whatever." Dudley shrugged. "I mean… what's the big deal anyway? It's not like he's _normal_ or anything, he's just a fr…" Dudley finally noticed the angry looks all around him and wisely revised the rest "…er… a 'fraidy cat'. Yeah, that's it – a _fraidy cat_ that wets the bed! That's why he can't sleep in my bunks! Nah-na na-na na! Fraidy cat! Frai…"

"ENOUGH!" James roared at his nephew. Unfortunately, his overreaction to the teasing words, combined with Harry's embarrassed face, confirmed Dudley's unsubstantiated wild guess, and he erupted in new peals of laughter.

Harry wished he could just die. From the smirk growing on his cousin's face, he knew he might as well. How was he ever going to be able to show his face in school again? Oh no! _School!_ He was so upset by the whole discussion he about forgot the Salazar System! What was it that Mr. Nathraichean said? Oh yeah… if he followed Salazar's rules he would be an admirable person and worthy of praise instead of ridicule.

As Harry concentrated on his 'How to be a Slytherin' lessons, he could hear Mr. Nathraichean's low soothing monotone instructing him in his head. Salazar said he must have self-respect. His breathing evened out as he calmed, and the flush disappeared. Salazar also said he must have self-confidence. Harry sat up straight, raised his chin, and looked his cousin squarely in the eye until Dudley's laughter stopped. Salazar said he must have self-control. Harry calmly cleared his throat and stood up for himself.

"I preferred sleeping in my cupboard where I wasn't kept up by a rusty chainsaw every night. I'm not surprised Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia went on holiday alone. I'm ready for one too, and you've only been here a week." Harry wisely didn't lie or try to deny anything. Instead, he used Slytherin cunning to neatly send an insult right back.

Lastly, Salazar said to use common sense - and while Dudley's big mouth was hanging open, and he had that clueless expression on his face, it was an excellent time for Harry to make his escape - with what was left of his dignity intact.

"May I please be excused?" he asked of the adults sitting around the table, who were equally amazed at the quiet little boy's abrupt personality change. It was the most they had heard him say at one time in weeks. "I would like to go to bed now. I want to leave for school early tomorrow." It wasn't until he was safely behind his closed bedroom door, that he took a deep breath and a slow smile spread over his face. He could hardly wait to tell Mr. Nathraichean about it in the morning! He'd be so proud!

"Who was that?" Remus asked after the door swung shut behind Harry.

"I'm not sure… but there was something familiar about him." James replied rubbing his chin and trying to place the stiff snarky attitude, it reminded him of something or someone… he just couldn't quite place it. Finally, he gave up in favour of helping Lily gather up the eggs to store in the icebox. Lily and James took a cue from Harry and took their dye-spattered daughter off to give her a bath.

Remus left for his own bed soon after, reluctantly leaving Sirius to deal with the task of putting Dudley to bed by himself. He hesitated doing so, but he was already feeling the effects of the near full moon, and Sirius assured him that he could handle it on his own with hearty 'no problemo'. That alone should have warned Remus that it wasn't such a good idea, unfortunately by the time he second guessed it, he had already taken his remaining half dose of the old wolfsbane potion and was fast asleep, locked securely in his basement flat.

It wasn't until the next morning that it dawned on Dudley that Harry had actually insulted him. He might not have even have figured it out then if it hadn't been for Sirius deciding that he really should address Dudley's bullying attitude toward his favourite godson before he put him to bed.

The image of Dudley and his gang teasing his beloved pup, defenceless like a monkey in the zoo, gave Sirius flashbacks of his stint in Azkaban. He hated being locked up, unable to go where he wanted, or to do what he pleased whenever he felt like it, his every movement being dictated by others. He couldn't bear the thought that Harry had ever experienced that feeling too. Dudley's unrepentant attitude made him want to exact a little payback, marauder style. He squelched down any reservations he had by telling himself he promised Lily he wouldn't do '_permanent' _damage… not, no damage at all.

Noticing that Sirius was the only one left in the kitchen with him Dudley announced, "I wanna watch my television!"

Sirius studied his petulant charge and had second thoughts. He was just a misguided kid who didn't know any better. Reluctantly he decided he should be fair. He would give Dudley one chance to do what he told him to do. If he did, then he wouldn't prank him tonight, but if not? Well then - he was fair game! Sirius smiled leisurely.

"I don't think so Dudster. Besides, there's nothing good on, I already checked. You should be toddling off to beddy-bye too, tomorrow is a school day."

"I'm not tired! I – want – to – watch – my – telly! I don't wanna go to bed, and you can't make me." Dudley screamed, demonstrating just how tired and peevish he was.

"I wouldn't bet on that if I were you." Sirius said slowly. He was the first to admit he wasn't all that terrific at wandless magic, his results being somewhat spotty at best. On one hand, practice made perfect, and it seemed to him Dudley was just asking to be a guinea pig…literally. On the other hand, he _had_ promised Lily. "I said no television, but I'll make a deal with you - if you're not sleepy yet, how about a nice chat instead?"

"Then I wanna play on my computer! Uncle Remmy's always on it so I hardly get to use it anymore!" Dudley whinged and squeezed out a few fake tears to try and look pitiful.

"Too bad. Since your only choices are chatting or sleeping. You have two minutes to decide. Then I'll decide for you." Sirius said stretching his long limbs and yawning widely.

Dudley scrunched up his fists and held his breath, his eyes getting small and hard as he did his best to look menacing, but it had little effect on his freaky Uncle Siri. Sirius just raised his eyebrows and tried not to laugh. No need to demoralize the kid completely, but once you lived with soul-sucking Dementors - dealing with a nine-year-old's temper tantrum was a piece of cake. _'Cake? Hm… wonder if there is any of that chocolate cake left in the icebox…'_ Sirius rummaged around in the icebox for cake, totally ignoring Dudley as he continued to hold his breath, his blue tinged lips starting to contrast interestingly with his red face. Sirius didn't find any cake, but came back with a nice selection of the hardboiled eggs they had coloured instead.

"Since you aren't scampering off to find your PJs, I am assuming you opted for the chat instead. So Dudster, tell me… ever been to the zoo?" Sirius asked tossing one egg after the other in the air until he was juggling three.

Dudley weighed his options. He could continue to hold his breath, but the likelihood that Uncle Siri would cave in before he passed out from lack of air was slim. On the other hand, he could pretend to give in until the older man fell asleep. Then he could sneak upstairs and play on his computer anyway! After all, Uncle Siri was _awfully old_ - he had to be _at least_ _thirty_! How late could anyone that old stay awake?

"Uh… sure… Dad and Mum have taken me loads of times. It's pretty boring though unless you pound on the cages and get the animals riled up." Dudley suddenly caught a dangerous look flickering over Sirius' face and added warily "…why'd you wanna know?"

"Just wondering…" Sirius observed Dudley through narrowly slitted eyelids. Tipping his chair back on two legs, he reversed his juggling to left-handed. He had gotten good at it in Azkaban, and in a small way, it had helped him keep his sanity. He wondered how Harry had managed it, growing up with his stingy relatives who were incredibly similar to Dementors - they both suck all the fun out of life. "You know… you can learn a lot from the animals in the zoo, especially the monkeys."

"Like what? How to act like a doofus? Eeep! Eeep! Eeep!" Dudley imitated a monkey and scoffed, "they're stupid."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well duh! Why do you think? They're the ones in a cage aren't they?"

"Is it just monkeys in cages that you're prejudice against, or is anyone who is unfortunate enough to be locked up that you think is 'stupid'?" Sirius was getting angry, but doing an incredibly good job of hiding it considering.

Dudley laughed at that. "Oh! You mean 'Harry the chimp'! Oh, ha-ha I mean 'chump'! Yeah he _is_ stupid too! Just like the monkeys! Eeep! Eeep! Eeep! Boy I had fun with that!" Dudley grinned widely over how he used to be able tease his cousin at his leisure. "It was much easier back then than it is now. Now I hafta hunt him down first."

"I was thinking more along the line of your parents." Sirius sniped, not liking the implication of Dudley's last statement at all. What did he mean by 'hunting him down'?

"Whad'ya mean by that?" Dudley yelled doing a fair job of echoing his thoughts. Dudley might not be a lot of things, but he was loyal to his parents regardless, and that sounded suspiciously like a slam to him.

"Er… nothing," Sirius felt a slight pang at delivering the low snipe. What Dudley's parents did or didn't do, wasn't Dudley's fault, anymore than the actions of his own parents, Orion and Walburga Black, had been Sirius' fault. However, he didn't have enough of a conscious to stop teasing Dudley entirely. Besides he reflected, as Dudley was as dumb as a post and didn't have a clue what he was alluding to, his joke hadn't counted. Despite the fact that James and Lily hadn't exactly hid it from him, Dudley still hadn't figured out that his parents weren't on a spring Holiday. In fact, the only time that Dudley gave them much thought was when he wasn't getting his way, which (as that was quite often now) meant he was thinking about them more than he ever did before. Still not even the lack of phone calls, postcards, or little souvenirs arriving by parcel post, had concerned him, miffed him a trifle, but certainly not concerned.

"What I meant is that in the zoo, monkey parents teach their young many things, the same as I am sure that your parents teach you things."

"Yeah? Like what?" Dudley asked slightly mollified.

"Well, like take these eggs for instance." Sirius said neatly catching all the airborne eggs in one hand. "They all look good on the outside, but they could be rotten on the inside."

"What's that got to do with monkeys? They eat bananas."

"Monkey's are just like us, they like a variety of things: fruits, nuts, grains, seeds, leaves, insects, and even an occasional egg. Bird eggs are real treat for animals in a zoo."

"How do you know that?"

"I recently completed an extensive eight year study into how the habits of sentient beings are altered when coerced into a situation of extreme incarceration." Sirius was amazed all that came out of his mouth - it was as if he were channelling Snivellus.

"Huh?"

"I'm smart, that's how. Now back to the topic of eggs, you know how sometimes when you try to peel them you get little crunchy bits of shell stuck all over it, or big chunks of egg torn off?"

"Yeah, I hate that… the shell gets stuck in my teeth, nice and smooth is better." Dudley hadn't been very satisfied with his portion at dinner, and all they had for pudding were apples slices and cheese. They were practically starving him to death! A couple of eggs for a snack wouldn't be so bad right now, maybe even three or four of them. "But what do monkeys have to do with it? Oh, I get it! You're talking about Harry again! He knows how to peel eggs real smooth. Mum always made him do all of that kind of stuff."

"Smooth _is_ nicer…" Sirius agreed ignoring the remark about his godson for now, but filing it away for future reference. Taking one of the eggs he first twirled it on the table then tapped it lightly on his head three times before rubbing it on his hair for a moment then cracking it sharply once on his forehead. The shell fell off easily after he did so, leaving egg glistening like an extremely large lopsided pearl on the palm of his hand.

Dudley's eyes grew round.

"That's a sign of a good egg…" Sirius lightly salted then popped the shelled egg into his mouth in one piece making little lip smacking sounds of delight, as he first tasted it, chewing it slowly and luxuriously, and then swallowed the whole thing down, his eyes rolling back with a satisfaction. "Yum… and it also makes them go down real easy."

Dudley started drooling.

Sirius took another egg and after a little fancy slight-of-hand, he twirled, tapped, and then rubbed it again before cracking and shelling it. Then the second egg following the path of the first with even more fanfare, stomach patting, and lip smacking.

Dudley's tummy rumbled loudly in protest.

"Oh Dudster, I'm sorry, how rude of me! Did you want one too?" Sirius asked twirling the third egg in his fingers.

"Yeah! I'm starving! Gimme!" Dudley said reaching across the table for the bowl of the remaining eggs.

"Whoa there! Hold on a sec…" Sirius said pulling the dish closer to himself and just out of Dudley's reach.

"Hey! What's the big idea? You just said I could have some!"

"I can't have you just going off willy-nilly, popping anything in sight in your mouth! I wouldn't be doing my job as a proper guardian if I did that. I have to make sure you know what you're doing first. What if you got a bad egg and got sick? Your Aunt Lily wouldn't be very happy with me."

Dudley frowned sullenly, "Whad' ya mean a bad one? Aren't they all okay? I mean… Auntie Lily cooked them all and she's pretty good at cookery."

"That she did, but eggs are tricky things. Could be rotten inside and then the stink hangs around you for days, and you can't get rid of it no matter what you do. Haven't you ever heard the term 'He's a bad egg'?"

"Yeah…" Dudley remembered his dad calling Harry that _A LOT_.

"Well where did you think the expression came from?"

"Oh... I never thought of that." Maybe that's why his mum made his cousin do it, so she wouldn't have to risk getting smelly, since Harry already was.

"Now, as I was saying earlier, they all _look _good from the outside, but what's inside - is what counts. Of course... only the really _smart_ people know how to tell the difference."

"I just thought an egg was an egg."

"Why Dudster!" Sirius gasped in fake alarm. "Don't tell me your parents never showed you how to check to see if an egg is good before you eat it! Why, even monkey parents do that for their young. And I thought you said your parents were smart."

"Nope - I mean yes! They are smart! It's just that I've never seen either one of do much of anything with an egg, but eat it."

"Well have they ever smelled liked rotten eggs, or have they ever given you one?"

"Noooooo… I don't think so." Dudley said scratching his head, but then he couldn't remember either of his parents cooking eggs before the Kruegers took Harry away.

"You'd certainly know if you had, the stench is unmistakable! So they must know how to check them too…but how? ...how?" Sirius stroked his chin as if deep in thought, and he was thinking - just not about the Dursleys._ 'My beard is starting to grow in heavy again, maybe I should borrow James' razor in the morning.'_ After a minute, he glanced over at Dudley. _'Hm… the kid is trying to think so hard his eyes are going crossed. He's liable to sprain his brain if he keeps it up, best not to let him think too hard much longer.' _

Sirius dropped his chair back to four on the floor and leaned in on his elbows to whisper conspiratorially to Dudley. "I bet I know how they knew! Seeing as your folks took you to the zoo a lot, and them being such geniuses, they probably learned it the same place I did – from watching the monkeys."

"How would stupid monkeys know a good egg from a bad one?" Dudley foolishly asked.

"With all those people visiting the zoo, you know the ones who can't read the 'do not feed the animal signs', the monkeys get dozens of them tossed at them through the bars every day. And what with all those _bad eggs_ traipsing in and out, the monkeys had to come up with a foolproof way of sorting the good from the bad, if you know what I mean." Sirius winked at Dudley.

"I guess that makes sense…" Dudley clearly remembered many times he tossed food to the animals because he thought it tasted spoiled, and he was too lazy to look for a trash bin. "But if my folks knew how, why didn't one of them tell me?" Dudley asked clearly puzzled. "They know how I like to eat."

"Maybe they just didn't think you were old enough to handle yet." Sirius shrugged. "Didn't you say Harry did most of the cooking at your house? They probably told him instead."

Dudley had to think hard to connect the trail of dots Sirius had scattered in front of him.

"I bet Harry doesn't know either… even if did cook most of the food, cause he was _really smelly_ sometimes. I don't 'member him stinking like rotten eggs, but Mum made him sleep outside in the shed if it was really bad, so he must have sometimes. She doesn't like stinky things in the house," he added as if that justified his mother's solution over that of simply letting his cousin enjoy a nice hot bath.

Sirius scowled fiercely on the inside, while outside he just nodded for him to continue.

"And Dad always locked him in the cupboard when they took me to the zoo… so he wouldn't ruin it for me you know," Dudley looked up and nodded in all seriousness. "So he couldn't have learned it there by watching the monkeys, like my folks did, since he hasn't ever seen a real monkey."

"No, probably not then," Sirius agreed, making a note to take Harry to the London Zoo just as soon as possible, perhaps in a few weeks when Remus could come with them. As the full moon was only two nights away, Remus showing up at the London Zoo right now might cause a mass stampede, which wouldn't exactly help them keep a low profile.

"I'm a whole month older than Harry, and Mum says that I'm _a lot_ more mature and _a lot_ more responsible. So I should be old enough." Dudley frowned, it wasn't like his parents to deny him anything, so something here just wasn't making total sense to him, but that bowl of eggs was looking more tempting all the time, and he was really getting hungry!

As Sirius expected, Dudley's dot connecting had conveniently skipped over the large one prominently tagged 'CAUTION! PRANK AHEAD!', and focused instead only on the small egg shaped dot at the end simply labelled 'eat me'. Dudley slid closer to Sirius and poked at one of the eggs suspiciously with his finger as if it might explode at any minute.

"So how do you know if they're any good?"

"I am so glad you asked me that my young sir. It shows a certain willingness to expand your hitherto curtailed knowledge of… _(ahem)_…'unusual' things." Sirius then made a big show of looking to verify they weren't in danger of unwelcome ears overhearing them.

"So tell me already!" Dudley demanded impatiently and moved in even closer.

Putting a finger to his lips Sirius shushed him and glanced over his shoulder one more time, and then got up and firmly shut the door, closing off the kitchen from the rest of the flat. "Can't be too careful, some people might not be ready for this much knowledge."

"That right!" Dudley crowed in a loud whisper, smirking about getting one up over his cousin. Ha! He was going to learn something from his cousin's godfather that his cousin wasn't! He'd show him what's what and who's who!

"I'm having second thoughts… I'm not too sure about imparting this knowledge to you either, after all… if your parents weren't sure you were ready…" Sirius made a show of hesitating, just enough to lure his eager quarry in a little bit closer "…but I _suppose_ it would be all right, as your de facto guardian it _is_ my duty to teach you in their stead."

Excited Dudley scooted his chair over as close as he could.

"You sure you can handle it?" When Dudley nodded his agreement, his eyes big and round, Sirius continued. "Then let me demonstrate because there is a real trick to it. First, you have to select an egg. I already picked one out for me," he said displaying a festive green and blue dotted one. "You have a go too," he urged. Dudley selected one that was half yellow, and half red, with an orange stripe around the middle.

"Next I like to twirl it a bit – to make sure the yolk is balanced in the centre. Don't you just hate it when you get one with the yolk all stuck on one end? I find it most disagreeable." Sirius put the third egg on the table in front of him and twirled it with his fingers until it was spinning like a top, admiring the pattern of colours with which his godson had decorated it. Ah well… what is art if not to be enjoyed and then eaten? Dudley followed suit. It took him a few tries but soon he had his egg twirling as well.

"Then – and this is a very important – you tap it ever so lightly three times on your head."

"_On my what!"_ Dudley squeaked in alarm and put his hands on his head to protect it.

"It is the best way - of course it you prefer not to learn proper egg eating etiquette…"

"No! No! No! Show me! Show me!"

"I can see you are starting to question, and not just take what you hear for granted, that is a very good habit to have." Sirius praised him. "There is an old Chinese proverb which is quite apropos in this situation – 'Give a man an egg and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to lay an egg and he…" a slightly glazed blank look crossed Sirius' face before he brightened back up "…will always has a job in the Ministry!"

"Huh? The mini-what?" Dudley asked scratching his head in confusion.

"Yes, well that's always good to keep in mind. Now the reason for the intimate connection with your cranium is because you have to make a visceral link with your sustenance in order to derive the greatest nutritional advantage from it. As your head and an egg are so similar in construction, it is a natural correlation. I would go into detail and reference scholarly studies to that effect, however I'm sure that isn't necessary for someone of your ambiguous level of intelligence… is it?" Sirius was rather quite impressed with himself and that he'd managed to pull so many multi-syllable words out of his mushy brain, he thought it was even worthy of Snivellus.

"Uh no, I guess not." Dudley answered irritated. This was a fine and dandy development. Uncle Siri was the one adult in this household that he could understand up until now - and now he was starting to sound exactly like his teacher. It just wasn't fair.

"Fine! Then back to the eggs. Are you watching closely?" Dudley nodded. "You tap – tap – tap, if there is anything amiss with the interior of the egg it will give off a distinct vibration that you can feel in your fingers." Sirius demonstrated with Dudley mimicking every movement. "Do you feel anything?"

Dudley shook his head no.

"Good. Very good! Next, you rub it on your hair - this movement creates a static charge that helps the shell membrane to separate from the surface of the cooked egg white inside. Then rap it once very sharply to crack it, and… voilà! A perfectly shelled egg." Sirius grinned as the shell fell off in one piece, leaving the egg's pearly essence behind.

Dudley's egg didn't fair quite as well.

"Practice makes perfect Dudster – here have another go…"

Sirius kept rolling egg after egg over to Dudley, until he managed to shell an egg without completely mangling it. As Dudley had eaten all the rejects anyway, crunchy bits and all, Sirius practically had to roll him into bed when his full tummy made him too sleepy to arrive there under his own power.

"Nighty-night Dudster-wudster." Sirius struggled a bit but managed to heft the boy into the upper bunk, tucking in his charge with a faint snicker. Dudley rolled over onto his back and immediately started snoring. "_ssssSNNNNOOooORRRK! sssnnNoorK-Ka-Ka! __**ssssSNNNNOOooORRRK!**__ sssnnNoorK-KA-KA-ka-ka!__** ssssSNNNNOOooORRRK!"**_

"Merlin! He's loud!" Sirius said plugging his ears on the way out, only to run smack into James in the darkened living room.

"Gods Padfoot! Give me heart failure will you! What are you doing still up?"

"Putting the Dudster to bed."

"_Just NOW_? It's after midnight and he has school tomorrow! What were you thinking?"

"Um… that a little bonding isn't always such a bad thing? Oh! - And that I _really_ miss my wand. It would have come in handy to levitate him into bed. I think I put my back out," he groaned holding his back and limping towards the staircase.

"Serves you right," James said looping his arm around his friend to help him up the stairs and dumping him unceremoniously on his bed.

"What do you mean _it serves me right_?" Sirius said huffily from his prone position.

"It's not that I don't believe you, but what did this 'bonding' session consist of?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I saw the look on your face tonight. You were in your avenging godfather mode, not your new one as guidance counsellor to the terminally bratty. So what were you really doing? You weren't doing something to Dudley that's going to upset Lily did you?"

"Questions, questions, questions - always with the questions. Don't you trust me?"

… (Complete silence from James) …

"Why Prongs! You don't! Do you? I think I'm offended!"

James snorted, "If you have to think about it - you aren't offended. You're offensive and proud of it. Now answer my question."

"Let us just say that breakfast should be interesting, and leave it at that, shall we?"

"_**ssssSNNNNOOooORRRK!"**_

"What is that god awful racket?"

"Ah that would be our widdle Dudster-wudster. The boy's bedroom is directly below this one and the Dudster likes the top bunk – of course. I might also point out, that if you take into account how thin the floorboards are. The top bunk is a mere metre away. I really should take the lack of soundproofing in this flat up with the landlord. It's definitely not up to my expected standards of quality."

"Merlin! He's loud! I wonder if he had adenoids."

"My thoughts exactly Prongs. In fact I said that exact same thing not a moment ago."

"No wonder Harry thought sleeping in a cupboard was preferable to sharing a room with Dudley," James commented as he pulled off Sirius' shoes and socks.

"Thanks Prongs, I can handle the rest…" Sirius yawned and waved him away without bothering to move anything but his hand, or making any other indication he actually would finish getting into bed. "…but if you wouldn't mind opening the win…... zzzzzzz."

James chuckled softly as he propped opened the window with a short stick and pulled a blanket over his sleeping friend. Now back to checking on Harry and make sure he was sleeping as soundly… despite his deafening roommate. As James slipped silently out of the room he didn't notice the soft thud as the stick toppled back out of the sash, or the window sliding shut behind him, locking with a faint click and the tinkle of rattling glass.

When he had first run into Sirius in the living room, James had been on his way into the boy's room to reinforce the magical barrier he had used to divide the room, to ensure Dudley's compliance with his rule about not bothering Harry. Not that James mistrusted his nephew, but well… frankly he didn't, not even when Dudley was asleep. Especially now as he was not that positive that all the 'trouble', that Harry had supposedly caused at Privet Drive over the past eight years, was actually caused by Harry. It seemed to him that Dudley might have had unknowingly, or otherwise, had had a hand in it himself.

Pausing at the door to the boy's room Dudley's thundering snores assaulted James once more. He started to draw his wand to recast the spell dividing the room, but then thought better of it. Moving over to Harry's bed he scooped up his sleeping son in his arms and carried him across the flat and snuggled him like a spoon in front of Lily.

"Um… James?" Lily asked sleepily. "Was Harry having night panics again?" Brushing the hair off from her son's sleeping face she pulled him in close and kissed his forehead to feel him nestle into the curve of her body. When he was asleep like this, he was so cuddly. Just like the baby that she remembered from so long ago.

"No, but he was wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"Dudley doesn't sound like a rusty chainsaw when he snores. He sounds more like a congested elephant."

"… _(yawn) _… silencing spell didn't work?"

"Er… I didn't think of doing one." James admitted a bit sheepishly, schooching into bed behind her and looping his arm over both of them. "This just seemed to be… _easier_."

Lily's shoulders shook with silent mirth and she snuggled down, warm and cosy between the two most important men in her life. "… and _nicer _..."

"Uh huh… it is… very nice." James returned, nibbling on her ear.

"James…?"

"Hm…?"

"Where's the egg?" Lily asked feeling around and not meeting the hard edge of Harry's nest box.

"The what?"

"The dimwit duo's egg. You know the one. It's not here. Did you finally get rid of it?"

"Oh right, _that_ egg!" James sat up in bed startled. "I didn't see it when I picked Harry up, so I forgot all about it. Come to think of it, I haven't seen it all weekend… maybe longer. Have you?"

Lily furrowed her brow and tried to remember the last time she'd seen Harry with the egg. As it had become such a part of him lately, and she had other things to worry about, she had stopped noticing it. "I'm really not sure… I know he had it with him last Wednesday… but the next morning when I started to say something about it at breakfast he got this strange look on his face. I thought maybe it had something to do with Dudley so I dropped it for then."

"What did he say about it when you asked him about later?"

"I… I didn't remember to." Lily bit her lip, grateful it was dark and that James couldn't see the guilty look on her face.

She really had meant too - she had! It was such a small thing to forget. She had been so worried about everything lately, that one more thing to worry about just wouldn't fit into her brain, no matter how small it was. Everything was starting to feel impossibly overwhelming. Besides worrying over her sister and brother-in-law being in jail and dealing with Dudley's continual tantrums, she was trying to nurse both Sirius and Remus through their ill health. Her concern over how to clear Sirius' name, Holly starting to teeth, and Harry distancing himself from her and James emotionally - the past few weeks made her feel so tired and ill that it was hard to work up enthusiasm for anything.

It finally got to the point that morning where she had dragged herself to a muggle clinic for a check-up. What the doctor told her had given her a lot to think about and had driven almost everything else out of her mind. Only she had never meant for one of those things to be Harry. Now she felt horrible, both literally and figuratively.

"What do you think happened to it? I was sure he wouldn't ever put it down. Hey! Maybe he just lost interest in it in favour of something else. I did that all the time myself when I was growing up. About drove my parents barmy."

"I suppose that could be it."

"Do you think we should ask him about it in the morning?" James asked lying back down and cuddling his wife and sleeping son in his arms again.

"I don't know… maybe we ought to just be grateful he's not obsessed with it anymore and leave it at that." Oddly, Lily didn't feel any better at the thought, and she had a hunch that they hadn't seen the last of the mysterious egg. That little issue couldn't have possibly have resolved itself so easily. They weren't that lucky.

James could feel the vibes emanating from his wife. "Okay… give," James demanded.

"Give what?" Lily answered innocently.

"Tell me what has you so edgy tonight." James whispered in her ear. From the way she brushed at him with her hand he knew something was definitely bothering her. "Did you go see the Doctor today?"

"Um hum…"

"And…?"

"And I'm not edgy."

"Heh-heh, you're not? Then what is it? That 'time of the month' again?" James said halfway teasing and halfway baiting her on purpose. Lily obviously had something on weighing on her mind, and if he knew her as he thought he did then she wanted to talk about it, but hadn't wanted to with the others around.

"No… just the opposite," Lily said softly into Harry's hair. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to go through this again so soon with all the danger facing their family back in the wizarding world. Besides, she was uncertain how James would feel about the timing either. Then on top of everything else worrying her, now she had proof she was failing miserably at learning how to be a good mum to a nine-year-old.

There were so many little things that she had meant to do, such as shopping for that new pair of shoes Harry desperately needed, and meeting with his teacher. Except that Dudley coming to stay had drained what was left of her dwindling energy. A few short months ago, she had been teaching a class of twenty-two children single handed, but now not even James thought she was able to manage looking after only three children. He even had taken Remus and Sirius up on their offer to take care of Dudley for her.

True, when she was teaching, the children all went home after the final bell, while she returned to their blissful little quiet flat populated by two and recharged, and now their extended family filled every room of every floor. But Dudley? She should have been able to handle her own nephew! James was right, if she couldn't manage with three for just a few days on her own, how was she going to be able to cope long term?

"Then what is it? Is something wrong? What did he say?" James' anxiety was rising fast. He was just teasing before but Lily had been feeling under the weather for weeks now. A relapse, considering the strain of the recent events, wasn't out of the realm of possibility, and the doctors had warned him to keep her stress levels down.

"Um… I think describing me as 'eggy' would be closer to the truth."

"Eggy?" That description perplexed James but Lily had been overly fixating on the smallest things lately. Was she thinking about the dozens of eggs they had just coloured or was she worried that she hadn't regained her figure after giving birth? True it was now more egg shaped than hourglass, but it hadn't been that long since Holly's birth, just a few months. Lily was just being too hard on herself. Maybe all she needed was a little reassurance that she was still attractive to him. That must be it, he decided. He just hadn't been paying enough attention to her lately.

"So what if you put on a few pounds around the hips? I love you anyway," he said gallantly, putting his foot solidly in his mouth.

"I AM NOT FAT!"

"I never said you were!" James denied, back peddling as fast as he could.

"Then what was that crack about my hips!"

"I didn't mean anything by it. Shush now… you'll wake up Harry."

Lily coldly brushed his arm off from her shoulder.

"C'mon Lily, I'm sorry - you have the same lovely figure as the girl I married," he lied smoothly and put the arm back in place. "Now what did the doctor say?"

"If you can't figure it out _Mr. Krueger_ then I'm not going to tell you." Lily said huffily, her mood swinging like a pendulum.

"Well if you're not going to tell me - I'm not going to even try to figure it out _Mrs. Krueger_." James sniped back, just as moody.

"Don't you call me that! I get enough of it from Harry!" Lily cried out, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now. When James noticed his arm getting damp, he felt remorseful for being the cause, even though she had been the one to start it.

"I'm sorry Rosie-posy. Please don't cry. Tell me what's wrong," he cajoled with real concern etched in his voice now.

"No-nothings wr-wrong… not really…"

"But there's something… isn't there?" James said seriously, and felt his heart about stop when he felt her nodding and start to sob silently again.

"…it's just… it's just that I'm – I'm… going to have another ba-baby!" Lily finally wailed quietly, hugging Harry so fiercely it caused him to squirm in his sleep.

"A _what_?" James could hardly believe his ears. Maybe he hadn't heard her right.

"A hippogriff James. A HIP-PO-GRIFF. I'm going to have a humongous hippogriff, to go with my enormous hips. Then we won't have to worry about finding Harry another pet."

James was speechless. A baby was the last thing he would have guessed.

'_A baby? We're having another baby? Not that the signs haven't all been there - but it's only been a few month since Holly was born. Still … a father? I'm going to be a father? …a pop, a daddy, a daddy-o, a dad-a-re-no, a D-A-D…'_

The longer James was silent, the tenser Lily became.

"Are… are you upset with me?" she asked, quietly apprehensive.

"Upset? Upset about what?" James asked, grinning in the dark from ear to ear._ '…and that spells 'Dad' with a capital 'D' and that rhymes with 'Me' and…' _

"Merlin!" James sat bolt upright in bed with the overpowering impulse to wake up the rest of the Marauders and immediately start celebrating.

"You ARE upset!"

"No! No! No! No! No!" James hurried to reassure her. "I love it! I mean I love you! I mean I love us! I mean… I don't know what I mean!"

"Then you're okay with another baby? I know we said two was enough. One of each…"

"Two? Three? That's not so much of a difference – it's just one tiny little baby. They don't take up much room. And in all those decorating shows that Padfoot's been watching on Dudley's television they say that groups of three are more harmonious."

"In interior decorating yes, but we're talking about children here!"

"So am I. I'm talking about decorating our lives with children! Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know yet James, I'm not even quite a month along." Lily said with a slight laugh.

"So when did we… er… get preggers?" James asked earning him a swat.

"That's 'with child' and the doctor estimates I'm three weeks, so about St. Patrick's Day."

"We did do a bit of celebrating that night." James remembered fondly, his hand straying down to find Lily abdomen, and he gently rubbed it, awed at the miracle within.

"Yes we did."

"You know… if we tell Sirius about it, he'll take credit for it." James mentioned, having second thought about waking up his friends.

"I'd like to see him try! But… I don't think I want to announce it to them quite yet, if you don't mind." Lily said thoughtfully carding her fingers through Harry's dark locks. "I think a certain little someone else deserves to be the first to know he's going to be a big brother again."

"That does seem fair, especially as he was the last to know about Dudley moving in." James agreed sighing as he leaned back against the headboard. "But this does bring back an old problem."

"Telling Harry first? Why's should that be a problem?" Lily asked apprehensively.

"No, that's not what I meant… but remember? When Harry was born, we had trouble deciding whom to name as his official godfather. Only with the Ministries prejudice against werewolves, we finally opted for Sirius. Remus said he was okay with it, but I know he was jealous. Then with Holly a newborn without a godfather, and Remus showing up with the news that Sirius was dead, we named Remus as hers."

"I remember. It works out well as they now have one a piece to spoil rotten. Though it is more like they both spoil both of them every chance they get. So I don't get it… what's the problem?"

"With a third… either someone is going to get their feeling hurt again, or we're going to come up short a godfather." James pointed out.

"Hm… then you are just going to need to step up your search for Sev, aren't you?"

"I guess that would be one solution."

"Don't worry about it James..." Lily snickered as she cuddled back down in the crook of his arm, with Harry still cradled cosily in hers, "…you have eight months."

"Thanks, I'll need it." James returned dryly and shut his eyes with a sigh. _'Severus Snape! You'd think a sore thumb like that would be easier to find.'_

James laid wide-awake the rest of the night holding his wife and son in his arms, alternately grinning like a fool, and grimacing like a troll. By the time, that dawn reached the flat he had made up his mind about two things: first, if Severus Snape was what Lily wanted, than Severus Snape is what she was going to get. Come hell or high water he was going to find Snape, stuff him in a box, wrap it in glittery gold paper, and present it to Lily with an overly large red bow on it. It was the least he could do for the mother of his children. Secondly, he was going to need to brush up on his stunning spells if his first goal was going to come to fruition. He couldn't think of any other way he was going to get Snape into that box … unless… maybe if wrapped it in green and silver instead…

Warm and cosy in his parent's arms, Harry slept quite soundly straight through the night, despite the hushed conversation going on over his head throughout the better part of it. For the first time since Dudley moved in the week before, he'd had a full night's sleep. With the constant emotional stress of feeling as if he needed to prove himself, he had rested only fitfully when he did at all. Now he was totally exhausted.

After years of jumping to the Dursley's every beck and call at a moment's notice, he normally slept very lightly, always alert for that harsh rap on the cupboard door informing him that they thought he was slacking off again. However, tonight, only overwhelming feelings of love and security penetrated through to his dreams, making him feel safe and very reluctant to wake. When he did finally stir, he found he couldn't move his arms, and started to panic that Dudley was sitting atop him. That panic subsided just as quickly when he rationalized that if it were his cousin pinning him to the mattress, he would also be feeling his fists pummelling him as he used him for a punching bag. Doing his best to calm down, he breathed deeply and caught the light scent of roses and lilies that could only be… _Mrs. Krueger!_

Opening his eyes, he saw a cloud of red hair fanning across his chest, and was sure that if he had only had his glasses on, that the small red fuzzy dot bouncing at the end of the bed would come into focus as his baby sister watching him from her crib. He was back in the Krueger's bedroom! "How in the world did I get here again?" Harry asked himself under his breath, and was surprised to feel his hair been tousled by strong yet gentle fingers, and a deep vibrating rumble under him as his father suppressed a laugh.

"Good morning champ! Did you sleep well?" James smiled down at his son who was still snugly trapped in his mother's arms. He was tempted to tell Harry the news, right then and there when all was quiet and it was just the two of them awake, but he knew Lily would have his head if she weren't in on the telling. James poked at Lily to see if she would wake up, but she was clinging as tightly to sleep, and she was to Harry. She hadn't let go of him all night, and James had to laugh. It was so similar to how Harry had been guarding the egg. And Lily said she had absolutely no idea where his overly compulsive 'protector' streak from - ha! James knew.

Harry tilted his head back and saw the blurry outline of his dad's face above him. He wished he had is glasses on so he could tell if he was upset with him or not. He bit his lip with worry. He decided he best not to take any chances, and apologize just in case. That was how he had learned to survive so long at the Dursleys – apologize first and ask what he did wrong later… if given the chance to, that is.

"I'm-I'm sorry Mr. Krueger… I didn't mean to sleep here! Really I didn't! I don't know how it happened - I was sure I got in the right bed last night." He tried to scoot out from under his mum's arm but she just reacted by hugging him tighter. "And now I'm stuck."

James laughed again. He knew that feeling well. "Here… let me show you a trick." Reaching down, he tickled Lily behind the ear. When she lifted her arm to try and swat his hand away, he signalled Harry to roll out of her reach and then he stuffed a pillow in the hollow where his son had been. Lily pulled the pillow in close and sighed in her sleep. James then handed Harry his glasses and put a finger to his lips as he slid out from under her grasp himself, before covering her with soft blanket to keep her warm.

"What say we go get some breakfast?" James offered as he picked up Holly and cradled her to his chest with one arm while he held out his other hand to Harry. "I promise I won't bite..." he reassured, smiling sadly as Harry hesitated before he took it – but at least he _did_ take it James told himself holding on to it tight, that was at least a start.

"How would you like your eggs Sir? Scrambled or fried?" Harry asked tentatively. When they had reached the kitchen, James had dropped Harry's hand while he put Holly in her high chair. Harry took that as a signal that he should get busy being helpful and started by pulling out a skillet and a bowl with five raw eggs, one for him and four for Mr. Krueger. When James just looked at him sadly, he thought he'd said something wrong.

"Or… I could make you an omelette?"

"How about you find some Oatie-O's to occupy your sister, and sit down. Then I will make you breakfast, instead of you making it for me. " James offered sticking his head in the icebox to see what was in there.

"You Sir? You can cook?"

"Yes me – I great at cookery," he bragged. "Don't tell your mum, but I do know how."

"You do?" Harry asked sitting down at the table next to Holly after getting the cereal box out of the cupboard. Popping a few of the round O's into her waiting mouth, he helped himself to a handful as well while he watched Mr. Krueger with curiosity to see what he would do. He remembered the breakfast not so long ago, when between his dad and his two godfathers, the kitchen caught fire and almost burned the building down.

"Yes I do. Probably not as well as you, from what I hear, but I can get by in a pinch. Now let's see what we can find…" James' idea of cookery was to pull anything that looked as if it wasn't growing a fuzzy green blanket out of the icebox and to put it on the table, along with anything from the panty that didn't require anything other than opening the box to make it edible. By the time he finished 'cooking' breakfast the rest of the household had woken up and meandered out of their various bedrooms and flats and had joined them at the table.

"What's this?" Sirius asked opening up the nearest container and sniffing it before turning slightly green and snapping the lid back down. "Eww gross! I think it moved."

"Oops! I didn't mean for that little sucker to get out! Here, give me that." James whipped it out of his friend's hands and stuffed it into a back corner of the icebox.

"James!" Lily frowned at him as she sat down at the table on the other side of Harry.

"Yes my eternal love?" James was more than willing to put up with a bit of disapproval this morning to hear the giggles coming from his son over his antics. Besides, he was sill grinning from ear to ear over Lily's announcement. He just wondered how long he could keep it a secret from the guys when he felt like shouting it from the rooftop.

"If it's past its expiration date, why did you put that back in there?"

"Er… what's an expiration date? No matter, don't answer. I just thought Moony might like it as a snack in a couple of days. He's starting to feel ill and it being alive and all…"

"Thanks, but no thanks Prongs. I prefer my meat to be red, not green."

"But it's also furry! You _like _furry." James pouted.

"Furry is not always better." Lily said adding her two cent's worth.

"Really? Since when?" Sirius piped up offended.

Remus just laughed at his friends, retrieved the questionable item back out of the icebox and tossed it in the trash bin to be sure it wouldn't be there to tempt him when his ravenous hunger reared its ugly head. Unfortunately, for Remus' normally delicate constitution, what James said in jest wasn't that far from the truth. When he transformed into his werewolf alter, all reason fled, and he never really knew, or remembered what (or Merlin forbid – who) he ate. Whatever it was that used to be in that container it had to be toxic by now, even to werewolves.

"But Uncle Remmy… I thought you liked to eat pies when you start to feel ill." Harry was puzzled about the turn in the conversation. Before anyone could explain, the mention of pastries sparked Dudley's attention and woke him the rest of the way up to join the conversation. Up to this point, he had been sleeping with his head on the table. It had been a late night for him.

"Pies? There are pies? Where? I want some too!" Dudley sat up and looked hungrily over the offerings on the table. To his disappointment, he didn't spot a single solitary slice, just a bunch of cold leftovers.

"Here Dudster, eat this instead." Sirius said handing him a dish of left over spaghetti.

"Yuck! For brekki? Are you kidding me? Isn't Auntie Lily going to cook me something?"

"No I'm the cook this morning," James grinned at him. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"It's cold!"

"That it is, very astute of you to notice. Really James, you could have at least warmed it a bit." Sirius agreed as he stabbed into it with a fork and ate some. "Still… not so bad."

"BUT I WANT PIE!" Dudley wailed and started banging his fists on the tabletop.

Any second thoughts he might have had about continuing his prank on Dudley died with the familiar, yet still unbecoming, tantrum. "So sorry Dudster, but Remus has all the pies downstairs under lock and key. But I think we do still have some very nice… eggs." Sirius said giving Dudley a knowing look.

"Oh yeah! I want some eggs!" Dudley nodding his round head vigorously in agreement.

"May I have one too? I can fix omelettes for all of us." Harry offered jumping up quickly. As he wasn't all that partial to cold spaghetti for breakfast either, he was more than willing to cook one even for Dudley. Harry picked up the bowl of eggs off the counter where he had left them earlier next to the stove, and moved to check the burner. He thought the pan should be hot enough by now, as he had lit the burner under it on low just before Mr. Krueger had ordered him to sit down. "Just let me check the…"

"Oh, I don't think _you_ 'checking' anything will be necessary this morning pup." Sirius cut him off in mid sentence, giving him a sly conspiratorial wink.

Although the thought of one of Harry's omelettes made his mouth water, Sirius realized that his tempting offer would spoil his carefully plotted prank. He also knew that if he delicately manipulated the situation, it would actually help him instead - boy's being boys and all, and Dudley being an especially annoyingly self-centred one. He flung an arm over Dudley's shoulders and gave him a squeeze. "The Dudster here knows all about how to check hard boiled eggs to make sure they're cooked well, don't you Dudster?"

"That's right **I**do. That's 'cause only smart people know how." Dudley smirked loftily, and then with a speed that contradicted his bulk, he was out of his seat and with a 'Gimme!' he grabbed the bowl away from Harry so he could hog them all for himself.

"But those aren't…" Harry started to warn him that the eggs weren't hard boiled, but raw ones that still needed cooked, only he stopped short when right before his eyes the white eggs in the bowl Dudley was holding bloomed with bright splashy colours and then multiplied till there were a full dozen. This time he _absolutely knew_ he wasn't the cause.

"Yes they are! They're _all _mine now stupid, so you bloody well shut it!" snarked Dudley as he sat back down, greedily putting an arm around the bowl to prevent anyone from trying to share the contents.

Suspicious, Harry looked at his godfathers to find out what was going on just in time to see Sirius slip a wand back into the pocket of Remus' robe under the cover of the tabletop, without Uncle Remmy noticing. When Sirius saw him witness the act, he gave him another conspiratorial wink. Harry wisely decided not to get in the middle of whatever it was Uncle Siri was doing. He had too often been at the wrong end of Dudley's wrath as it was, so he did as his cousin had ordered, and shut up. Sitting back down at the table between his mum and Holly, he poured himself some more Oatie-O's to share with his baby sister and waited to see what would happen.

Good mood or not, James on the other hand wasn't about to give up trying to make Dudley behave, with at least some toleration, towards his Harry. What he heard the night before had just reinforced his zero tolerance policy towards Dudley and his snide little put-downs.

"Dudley, what did I warn you about swearing and calling people names?" James asked as he ate the contents of one of the more interesting looking containers. Despite sounding stern, the absurdly happy look on his face sent Dudley mixed signals.

"Uh… not to do it anymore or I can't use my computer?"

"Right. So…?"

"So… I never get to use my computer anyway! He's always on it!" Dudley said pointing accusingly across the table to Remus, who in turn just looked apologetically at James.

"I can't help myself. It's addictive," he shrugged helplessly. "But on the bright side I am getting rather good at blasting alien spaceships!"

"Thanks for making my threats worthless Moony," James returned dryly.

"You're welcome Prongs."

"I didn't mean it as a compliment." James glared at him.

"Oh right. Sorry."

"Very well Dudley, then your television stays off for a week." James declared instead, determined to come up with something that would make Dudley think twice about what he was saying the next time.

"Er … _(cough) _… James?" Sirius interrupted. "I don't mean to rain on your parental parade here, but as you put Moony and me in charge of the Dudster, and as I've been monopolizing… er… I mean as I've _appropriated _his television already, maybe you should pick something else to punish him with… say like… oh, I don't know… maybe have him share the eggs he's clutching so possessively?"

"Better yet… no eggs at all for you today. Hand them over." James demanded.

"BUT I'M _**HUNGRY**_! I'll _**STARVE**_!" Dudley wailed pathetically.

Harry tried not to snort at that remark but failed miserably and milk came out his nose.

Lily had passed on the dicey looking leftovers and opened a jar of pickles instead. Waving a spear of dill at her husband, she pointed out reasonably that "Dudley has a point James. He really does need to eat before he goes to school or he'll fall asleep at his desk. But I also agree with Sirius that he certainly doesn't need a whole dozen. Besides, a hardboiled egg would go very nicely with this pickle."

"Fine, since no one seems to appreciate what I cooked for breakfast anyway." James waived it off nonchalantly. No one was going to ruin his mood this morning. He was a happy happy man! No strike that – and make that a happy happy man about to have an early Easter egg courtesy of his nephew. "Share the eggs Dudley."

"NO!" Dudley pouted petulantly. He was decidedly out of sorts (more than usual) after having stayed up far too late for a nine-year-old.

"Share. THE. **EGGS**!"James' good mood and patience was starting to stretch thin. A night of no sleep had a tendency to do that, even to a thirty-year-old-happy-as-all-get-out-soon-to-be-a-father-of-three.

"Ah, but Dudster… just think," Sirius connived, stepping in to derail the duel of wills between the two before it could get much traction. "Now is your chance to demonstrate how much you know. Isn't that well worth parting with a couple of paltry tidbits?"

"I dunno… maybe." Dudley said reluctantly. He did want to show up Harry.

"That's the way to negotiate!" Sirius encouraged jovially. "Let's see, so how about for every egg you give to someone else, you have one for yourself? That's fair isn't it?"

Dudley squinted his eyes tight as he tried to do the math in his head. It didn't seem that fair to him, there were a lot more of them - six if you counted his cousins, but he wouldn't so that would make it four to one. Wouldn't that mean he would only get a few? Now that he was awake, he was _REALLY HUNGRY_!

"Don't strain yourself Dudster. That means you would get half of them."

Dudley perked up. Half! That sounded MUCH better. He was used to splitting the food in half between him and his father. His mother was always on a diet and he never counted his cousin into the split for anything. "Okay I'll share then."

"Peel one for me first Dudster, I think I'd like that red and purple one right there on top, I think it's one that snicklefritz did for me. At least I have a dye tattoo on my elbow to match." Sirius said crossing his arms and tilting his chair back to into his preferred two-legged position.

Dudley picked up the egg and with total seriousness twirled it on the table in front of him. When it stopped spinning, he tapped it lightly three times on his head before rubbing it vigorously, cracking, and shelling it smoothly in one piece.

Grinning at his successful demonstration, he tossed it neatly over to Sirius who salted it and popped it into his mouth in once piece.

"Yumm… that was nice," he said smacking his lips. "Now do the orange and pink one there for your Uncle Remmy." Remus looked hopeful at that and put down the week old Chinese takeout he had been eating by using his fingers as chopsticks.

"But I thought you said I got half!" Dudley griped with a frown.

"You do. I just didn't say when your half would be. We each get one first, and then you can eat yours - all in a row."

Dudley grumbled but did as they asked, carefully shelling them one by one as Sirius had taught him, and becoming dismayed as the heaping bowl of eggs dwindled faster than he thought it would as they even made him shell one for both of his cousins! Although all Holly did with hers, was to throw pieces of it everywhere, thinking she looked cute doing it. He had felt like refusing on general principles, but the look on his Uncle James' face told him he'd better not, so he purposefully just pretended to rub theirs on his head but didn't really do it, so they would have crunchy bits of shell left on them, by way of protest. The only enjoyment he was getting out of being chef for everyone was showing up his freaky little cousin. He was pleased that Harry looked positively gobsmacked that his precious godfather had shown him how do something that he hadn't shown Harry.

'_The way his eyes keep getting bigger and bigger behind those thick glasses is really funny! He looks like my new fish! Oh… my fish. I forgot to have them bring it here. Hm… should have fed it I guess. Oh well. I wish I had a new camera so I could take a picture of the freak looking so freaky though. My old one only takes fuzzy pictures. Ha-ha! If I had a picture of his stupid face, I could blow it up real big and use it for target practice. Hm… a new camera would be a good thing to ask for when Mum and Dad get back from Holiday! They should be back soon… maybe I should start a list…'_

Dudley wasn't really all that good at multi-tasking and the concentration needed to compose a mental list of all the presents he wanted when his parents returned, was too taxing and distracted him from the fact that the remaining eggs he was shelling for himself, weren't shelling quite as nicely as the rest had.

If Dudley thought Harry's eyes looked big when he was rubbing the first six eggs on his head, they got even bigger when Dudley cracked an egg for himself and the slimy interior started running down his hair and dripping off his ears.

"What happened?" As Dudley went to put the egg in his mouth, he found the yolk slipping between his fingers and onto his lap.

"Ah… you must have not had your mind on it. I told you that if you aren't careful you could get a bad one. Now do you see what I mean?" Sirius said with a perfectly straight face. "Were you thinking about something else?"

"…yeah." Dudley admitted red faced.

"Well there you go! But you have five left and that's more than enough for breakfast."

Dudley picked up the next one and repeated the process. The result? Another egg bath.

"But I did it right this time! I _know_ I did!"

"Must not have twirled it enough is all I can say. But you have four left." Sirius shrugged.

Dudley turned his beady little eyes on him and twirled the egg an extra time, tapped it, rubbed it in circles, and then cracked it on his head with no better result.

"Now that was just overkill on the twirling! And I am sure I only saw you only tap twice." Sirius clicked his tongue in disapproval, critiquing his technique harshly.

Dudley twirled again, being more careful this time to count the taps – one tap – two tap –three taps, before rubbing the egg on his already egg slick hair and cracking it on his head. As egg started to drip off his nose, Sirius had a hard time not laughing.

"I think I spotted your problem this time. You rubbed it in a clockwise motion. Remember that is only in Australia and in other parts south of the equator, in the northern hemisphere you need to do it in an anti-clockwise motion."

"Ah yes, you're referring to 'The Coriolis Effect'." Remus agreed knowledgably, unwittingly lending an air of credibility to Sirius' prank. "Gaspard Gustav de Coriolis noted, in the eighteen hundreds I believe it was, that the rotation of the earth generates a force great enough to cause elements of nature, such as wind, to move over it in a circular motion, in relationship to the surface of the planet. Of course, in the case of something as small as an egg, there wouldn't be…"

"… ewwww… Moony! Stop! Please! That is waaaaay too much technical information for this early in the morning! The brains aren't working yet!" Sirius hurried and cut in before helpful Remus could spoil his prank. The teachers at the table raised their eyebrows at his protest, as they both believed in taking every opportunity available to educate. Sirius agreed, but that type of education wasn't his aim.

"Forget all that nonsense Dudster, it's just physics - it doesn't matter… now the thing to _really_ remember is that it's_**anti-**_clockwise," he said making large exaggerated circular motions in the air with his hands to demonstrate. "Come on! I know you can do it. You were doing so well until you forgot absolutely everything that I taught you."

Dudley took the fifth egg and carefully twirled, tapped lightly three times, rubbed it in an anti-clockwise motion and then cracked it open on his head.

…_drip …drip …drip …_

"Well, look on the bright side Dudster! You still have one left!" Sirius smiled broadly.

Dudley heaved a sigh. Nearly all of his breakfast was dripping off him onto the floor, and his tummy was protesting mightily. To top it off, his freaky cousin was laughing at him behind his hands. Oh he was trying to look innocent but it was probably all his fault!

He was beginning to feel duped. There was something odd in how all of the first eggs were perfect, but once he got to his own, they were all uncooked. It was a good thing he knew better, or he would think Uncle Siri was being mean and pulling a trick on him. But he did know better – he had heard them talking and he knew that Auntie Lily had made both of Uncle James' brothers promise to take good care of him, before she would agree to their supervision. He also knew that Auntie Lily would be upset with them if they didn't keep their word. Lastly he knew that neither one of the men wanted to be on Auntie Lily's bad side. That meant just one thing… IT WAS _**ALL**_ HARRY'S FAULT! This last egg was probably just as bad! His freaky little cousin was trying to pay him back. That was okay by him because he knew just what to do about it!

"You think you're so smart, you do this one," he challenged Harry as he rolled the egg across the table and it came to a stop in front of him.

"Brilliant! Thanks Dud!" Pleased with the unexpected bounty, Harry rolled the egg on the tabletop until the shell broke apart. "I know it isn't as fancy as your way of doing it, but it works for me," he said immediately popping the hardboiled egg in his mouth before Dudley could claim it back.

"Hey! No fair! That was MY EGG!"

"Oh sorry... I thought you gave it to me." Harry said licking the salt crystals off his fingers.

"Have I ever given you anything before?" Dudley growled at him even louder than his stomach was.

Harry thought for a scant moment before he answered truthfully "No."

"So what'd make you think I'd start now?" Dudley yelled.

"Er…"

"He probably just thought my kind and generous nature was beginning to rub off on you. Or should I say 'drip off'?" Sirius chuckled, slapping Dudley on the back with glee. "You know what they say… monkey see – monkey do!"

When he finally stopped laughing long enough, Sirius offered to make Dudley some porridge to make up for his missed breakfast, and while Dudley's tummy was ready to accept his offer (despite how much he detested the nasty stuff), his hurt pride wouldn't let him. Stomping off to the bathroom in a huff to wash the egg off his face, he threw the patented Evan's death glare over his shoulder as he went, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that he was definitely Lily's nephew, as an identical death glare was aimed at Sirius from that quarter as well.

"What'd I do?" Sirius asked innocently, only to have James head slap him.

"Last night you told me that you didn't do anything to Dudley!" he accused him.

"No I didn't Prongs, I purposely avoided answering the question altogether. As I recall, all I said was that breakfast would be interesting, and it was." Sirius contradicted him. "Well wasn't it? Besides, I didn't do anything to Dudley. He did it all to himself."

"Got to admit he's right about that," the resident peacemaker Remus agreed.

"I don't have to admit anything of the kind as I wasn't part of that conversation," Lily said shortly. "And _as I recall_ you owe me Sirius, and I think it's time I start collecting."

"Anything Mi'lady! You're every wish is my own desire!" Sirius attempted to jump up and bow to her, to show her he was at her service, but instead he upset the balance of his tenuously tilted chair and it crashed backwards, right into Harry who was passing behind him carrying his cereal bowl and cup to the sink to wash them out.

"Hey! Watch out!" Harry moved to get out of the way but Sirius' momentum was too great and they ended up in a tangled heap of arms and legs and broken crockery.

"Is everything still in one piece?" James pulled him out of the pile and set him on his feet, hoping that Sirius hadn't hurt him. When he had been watching Harry sleep that morning he had gotten a glimpse of several fading bruises under his pyjamas, and realized Harry hadn't been telling them when he got hurt. It made his heart ache to know that his little boy didn't trust him even that much. He had intended to bring it up to him at breakfast but that was when he thought they would have some time alone.

"I-I… I didn't mean to break the dishes! Really I didn't!" Harry exclaimed paling, not once thinking Mr. Krueger's question was due to worry over if he had been hurt, but assumed instead he was expressing upset over the breakfast dishes that now lay in pieces.

"I never thought you did." James was quick to correct him, and then swished and flicked his wand at the offending bits of broken ceramic, and the bowl and cup were magically whole again. He only wished he could mend whatever was wrong with Harry that easily.

"Dishes don't matter son. I can fix them with a simple spell. What does matter - is you. What I meant to ask is, are _you_ all in one piece? Are any bones broken?"

Harry flushed slightly as he was embarrassed about misunderstanding. There was so much still to learn about living with magic around all the time. Then he kept expecting the Kruegers to react to everything the same way the Dursleys always had. His panic over the breaking the dishes gone, he debated if he should mention that his left wrist was throbbing a bit from landing on it. In the end he decided against it, after all it didn't feel broken, just sprained. It really wasn't that bad so he didn't want to bother anyone.

"Er… yes? I mean no! I mean yes - I am in one piece. And no - nothing is broken." Harry stammered out flustered at the attention as all eyes in the room were on him waiting for an answer. From his prone position on the ground, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that, he really hadn't meant be so clumsy in his attempt to be funny.

"May I please be excused now? I need to finish getting ready for school and - and I wanted to go a little early this morning." Harry was in a desperate rush to escape before they forced him to betray himself and admit that he really was a burden.

"Why? Is something special happening today at school?" Lily asked with curiosity, remembering that Harry mentioning the same thing the night before.

"I just that I have um… a special project that the teacher is helping me with."

"Can't it wait? Your father and I wanted to talk to you about… um… a 'little something' this morning." Lily exchanged significant looks with James, who beamed proudly back.

'_Oh no! Not that! Not yet! No! No! No! No! I still have almost week!' _If Harry felt desperate to leave before, he felt positively frantic now. He really hated to remind them of their deadline, but there was no way around it. "I don't have that much time left to work on it… Easter is this weekend."

"Okay Sweetie you can go in early then," Lily granted half-heartedly. To hide her disappointment she threw herself into making up for it with a massive amount of nonstop mothering as she made him a sack lunch. "Be sure to wear your jumper - and Dudley needs to go with you. I don't want you outside alone. It isn't safe. Oh… and Sirius?"

"Yes Mi'lady?" Sirius replied making an air bow with his hands while still lying on his back halfway under the table.

"You're not off the hook yet. As long as you are down there, how about giving me a foot rub?" Lily grinned impishly and put a bare foot on his chest. Sirius didn't mind her using him for a footstool. It let him know that she had forgiven him.

Dudley on the other hand did mind, he did not intend to arrive at school one minute before he absolutely had too, and made his displeasure at that abhorrent suggestion known to all. Despite feeling horrid, Remus stepped in and volunteered to shepherd Harry there safely, if in exchange James would take Dudley later on his way to work.

Harry was greatly relieved about these arrangements as when he had gone back to his room to get ready, Dudley had been acting very smug about something. Knowing his cousin's penchant for revenge over the slightest imagined wrong, he was curious as to what he might have been up too, but not curious enough to stick around and find out. Hurriedly he dressed, grabbed his book bag off the desk, and ran for the door.


	11. A Patchwork Egg: part 6

It wasn't until after Remus had deposited Harry safely inside the classroom and then apparated back to the flats, that Harry discovered what Dudley had done to exact his revenge. As he carefully unpacked the nest box to place it inside his desk for the day, he felt the little creature's distress.

The egg… it was… _(gasp!)_ …

_PURPLE! _

Not only was it purple - it was also dotted all over with florescent lime green and pink polka dots! Looking closer Harry could see several hairline cracks in its shell.

"Oh noooooo! What happened to you? You're not ready to hatch! It's way too early!" Harry cried out in dismay as he cuddled it to his chest only to feel irritated 'you-don't-have-to-tell-me-that!' vibes coming back from the little creature inside. Who could have done this to his egg? He had hidden it safely away in his book bag. His book bag!

Last night, when Mrs. Krueger had come in and had asked for help colouring the Easter eggs, he hadn't wanted to chance it getting mixed up with the hard boiled ones in the kitchen (as that would have been disastrous!), so had run into the bedroom and put it safely in the book bag then stashed it under his bed. He had been very careful to push it all the way back to the wall to make sure it was well out of sight. Only this morning he had woken up in the wrong room, and then when he returned to his own to get dressed for school, the bag had been on the desk not under the bed where he had left it!

'_But who would have moved it? It could only have been…'_

Harry sighed, "_DUDLEY!"_

"That regretful moniker belongs to your cousin, not I Mister…_'Krueger'_, which would make you wrong once again. Not a very promising way to start out the week, is it?" Severus asked drolly, his voice coming from directly behind Harry causing him to jump.

"You scared me!" Harry quickly hid the egg in his desk and slammed the top down.

"Obviously."

Still flustered, the only thing Harry could think to say was a weak "Soooooo… what are you doing here Mr. Nathraichean?" He meant to sound cool and nonchalant, but after he said it out loud, it sounded lame even to him. He shrugged in resignation. He would never get it right! Amused, his teacher continued up the row and sat down at his desk at the front of the room to contemplate the implications of his student's early arrival - so early that he had almost missed him leaving the rundown building that morning entirely.

Severus had spent a miserable weekend in the rain staking out the flat, courtesy of another of Albus' annoyingly persistent 'research suggestions'. He told himself that the only reason he went along with it this time, was that he had already decided that he wanted to get a good look at Potter's current guardians, Mrs. Nasty-note-writer and Mr. Neglectful-at-best, so he could size them up for himself once and for all. His stakeout proved fruitless however, as not a single soul who lived in the building even peeked out a window the entire time. It was almost as if they knew he was laying in wait for them and they had barricaded themselves in to spite him, for what type of 'parents' of a nine-year-old boy wouldn't want to frequently chase him out of the house? It definitely was not normal behaviour, even for muggles.

From the upper most flat, he could hear the constant blare of a muggle television. Even far below in the alley he could tell from sounds it was emitting that the choice of program it was airing was juvenile. From the continual changing of the channel, the person watching obviously had an attention deficit disorder. Mister Dursley no doubt, Severus sneered lightly and cast a spell to slam the window down and lock it, the act doing the double duty of also thankfully muffling the sound of a particularly obnoxious laugh track.

Occasionally he also heard a door slam on the inside. No doubt this was the other boy, Potter, showing his true nature - that of a spoiled rotten brat. Severus congratulated himself not allowing the artful little actor to fool him completely. Once in his boredom he fantasized that he caught a glimpse of flowing red hair through the kitchen window and the melody of a merry laugh. After long hours in the dismal rain, his eyes were playing tricks on him. The laugh no doubt came from the television above. Sunday night along about three a.m., with another wasted weekend behind him, he had closed his tired eyes for a few minutes to rest. In a few hours he was sure that he would finally catch sight of at least one of the 'parents' taking the boys to school in the morning.

Just as the skies were starting to change from a deep charcoal grey to a lighter flannel, he had been awaken by the yowling of a snow white spotted cat with abnormally large ears and a plume of fur at the end of its tail. It glared down at him from the top of the rickety wooden fence that edged the alleyway.

Startled awake by the unusual alarm clock, Severus was immediately plunged into a bad mood. He prided himself on his constant state of alertness and on never being taken by surprise, especially not by a cat – that being one of McGonagall's favourite tricks. Soon three others joined the white cat on the fence top. Then the four of them sat in a row and stared reproachfully as if they thought he should be doing something he wasn't.

"Get out of here! I get enough of that look from the headmaster," he snarled and cast a small curse their way. The cats didn't even flinch, but turned their noses up at him and daintily pranced off playing follow-the-leader. His eye followed them to the end of the block. That was when he noticed far down the pavement, a small boy with messy black hair hanging onto the hand of a tall man with light brown hair wearing a faded overcoat.

"Blast it all! Potter is already half way to school!" By the time, he rushed out of the alley the pair had already turned the corner and were out of sight. He hurried after them, but as they had quite head start, he ended up trailing the boy and his keeper at quite a distance, too far away to get a good look at the 'father'.

He saw the pair enter the school through the back door that lead to the kitchen, the only one open that early. Aha! He had them! But on his way through the kitchen all he saw were the cooks and the halls beyond were empty, the only sign of activity was the light on in his classroom. Gloating triumphantly that he had trapped them, Severus flung open the door to find the classroom with only one small occupant - one that was slouching, sighing and shrugging galore. His intentions foiled, his bad mood got worse.

"And just where do you think I should be, if not here? Skulking in a damp alleyway somewhere, spying through windows, and sleeping behind trash bins?" Severus' pet spy tactic of late was to throw unexpected random bits of the truth at his enemies, under the working theory that they would immediately dismiss it as an incredulous improbability and thus go far towards securing his cover.

"Er… of course not! I just meant… that I didn't see you there."

"Then say what you mean and mean what you say. You must learn to make proper word choices, or you will never get your point across." His second most favourite spy tactic was to derail any potentially incriminating conversations by giving helpful character building pointers at every opportunity. "In addition, your speech is littered far too liberally with vocal segregates. I would appreciate it if you would cease using 'er' 'um' 'ah' and 'uh' as words. They are not, and it hurts my ears to hear them used as such. None of those can be found in any reputable dictionary of the English tongue."

"Er… okay… um… I mean, yes Mr. Nathraichean… Sir?" Harry's voice grew quiet as the wrathful eye of his teacher caused him to melt into a dismal heap of rejection. Why did he keep messing things up? The Krueger's were right when they doubted his potential.

He had been looking forward to telling his teacher about his verbal triumph over his cousin, and how he had used the Salazar system to do it, but it no longer seemed that great of an achievement. Besides, the opportunity was lost as the other children started to arrive, as he certainly wasn't going to brag about besting Dudley when he was standing right there – standing right there sticking his tongue out at him – a tongue splotched with purple, pink, and green dye! It had been Dudley!

Harry got hot thinking about what Dudley had done to the egg, and he could feel the little creature inside his desk was unhappy about it too. Angry and protective, he started to rise up, his hands curling into fists. That was when the little girl nearest to his cousin noticed Dudley's oddly splotched tongue. The strange colours and Dudley purposely crossing his eyes and contorting his face to look fearsome, reminded Annie of the thing from outer space she had seen at the cinema that weekend. That thing _ate_ people, and Dudley was always hungry! Opening her mouth, she started screaming in terror.

"Miss Hendricks - cease your screaming this instant. It serves no purpose other than to vex me." Severus said calmly from the front of the room where he sat with his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stay off a headache. Merlin! Save him from nine-year-olds! What he really needed was a very large, very hot, mug of Florean Fortescue's special brew of semi-liquid caffeine.

"But I don't want him to eat me!" Annie couldn't stop screaming, and when all the other little girls ran over to comfort her, Dudley stuck his tongue out at them too so they all started screaming as well.

Make that two cups – and a scone.

"**BE QUIET AND SIT DOWN!" **

Severus stood darkly at the front of the class with folded arms as all the children scrambled with a flurry of book bag stashing and coat hanging up to find their chairs. When they were all finally in their seats and silent, Severus cleared his throat.

"Thank you one and all. Now, Miss Hendricks – what seems to be troubling you on this bright and happy morning?" he inquired with false cheerfulness as the cold rain pelted the windows of the classroom and a roll of thunder punctuated his question.

"It's Dudley… he… he…" Annie pointed at him voice quavering "…he's an alien from Outer Space! His tongue is all purple and green!"

"No it's not," Dudley denied categorically and stuck it out again to prove it. His parent's had brought him up to be completely normal, it would not be normal to have a purple and green tongue! It just was NOT the Dursley way!

"Hey cool! Annie's right! It's polka dot!" Piers whistled in admiration. "I made mine go all blue once when I ate a bunch of blueberries, but never anything like that!"

That caused to Dudley do a rare thing and actually think about what he heard. It gave him misgivings. What if living with his freaky cousin, and his freaky family, had somehow turned him into a freak too? NO! Dudley didn't even want to go there.

Severus stalked over, grabbed Dudley's chin and ordered him in no uncertain terms to open wide. When Dudley opened his mouth in protest Severus peered inside and sneered dismissively. "It is nothing but dye. Mister Dursley is not an alien. He is your normal average dunderhead. Now open your math books and turn to page eighty-one."

Dudley might have taken offense at the insult if he had thought deeply enough about it, but Dudley avoided deep thoughts unless actually forced to have one, and he had accidently had one already just a few moments before. Besides, along with calling him a dunderhead, the teacher had also confirmed to the class that he was normal and average. Whew! What a relief! They had him going there for a minute! A week living with the freaks hadn't harmed him after all. His parents would be so proud!

For the next hour Severus relentlessly grilled the class on the seven and eight times tables, biting off heads left and right when their answers weren't quick enough, and delivering scathing remarks intended to melt them into puddles of molten remorse when not correct. His temper gave way to much speculation in the classes' twenty-two fertile little imaginations as to the reason for his particularly foul temper that morning. Finally, they elected Katie through a note-passing vote to approach him on the subject before the teacher ate one of them whole for a snack. His teeth _did_ look awfully sharp, and there was that possibility of the whole alien thing still stuck in their minds.

"Mr. Nathraichean?" Katie waved her hand in the air over her head to get his attention.

"What is it Miss Jones?" Severus snapped at her, not pleased at all to see the bouncing little egg scrunchies were back on her head and in use.

"My Daddy says when my mummy is as moody as you are, that it means her Aunt Flo and Cousin Red are coming to visit."

"And why do you think I would be interested in your mother's pending houseguests?"

The unexpected abrupt left turn in the mathematics lesson threw Severus off balance. He was well aware what the slang terms meant, but he was nonplussed they brought the topic up in_ his_ classroom. He glanced at his prominently posted lesson plan and detailed schedules, and as he suspected, sex education was _not_ listed on the class agenda or course syllabus anywhere. Thank Merlin for small favours!

"She means that her mum's red flag is flying." Malcolm helpfully provided as the backup sacrificial lamb in case the teacher reduced Katie to tears - which was exactly what happened when he confiscated her Easter egg scrunchies for being noise pollutants.

"You know… 'on the rag'?" At another undecipherable stare from the teacher, Malcolm sighed audibly and clarified with all the direct bluntness of the nine-year-old he was. "We're asking if you're _menstrual._ You know - because you're all crabby and such. So are you? 'cause we thought only girls got that way."

The class all grew unexpectedly quiet and twenty-two pair of inquisitive eyes turned to look at him as they waited expectantly for an answer. There was a long pause before Severus overcame the shock they even had the gall to ask such a question. It was as if the little brats could smell his fear of them, and went for the jugular at every opportunity.

"I am **NOT** having this discussion." Severus' voice was low and dangerous. All the little boys and girls just giggled, exchanged winks with each other, and nodded knowingly.

It was infuriating! Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was going to pay for this, and pay big! It was all Severus could do to not cast a spell, transfigure the entire bunch of little snickering idiots into potted plants, and then dice them up for potion ingredients. Discretion being the better part of valour, he ordered them all out of his sight to the gymnasium for an extra long and extra early recess, before he gave in to his inner urges and did that very thing. Unfortunately, that left Harry alone in detention and the sole recipient of the teacher's unvented wrath.

"Why are you sitting there looking as if you haven't enough brains to breathe?" Severus snarled when he finally opened his bloodshot eyes and saw Harry openly gaping at him.

Harry let out the breath he had been holding in hopes of not disturbing his teacher. Seems he couldn't ever win no matter what he did.

"Well?" Severus demanded. Harry wasn't exactly sure what the teacher was expecting him to do now, but he was acting just as Uncle Remmy did when the moon got full, and according to Uncle Siri, it was going to be full tomorrow night. Maybe his teacher was a werewolf too. If so, there was only one thing he knew to do for that…

Harry got up and dashed out of the room, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Before Severus could decide whether he wanted to expend the energy to track down his escaped detentionee, Harry came back carefully balancing a plate with a buttered scone in one hand and a mug of hot coffee in the other.

To Severus' eyes, it was like manna from heaven. Then his eyes narrowed suspiciously. How could the little brat have known? "Where did you get that?" he demanded.

"Cook's a friend of mine. I'm sorry… it's a little cold and a little… er… thick - it's what was left in the bottom of the pot… and I hope black is okay, Cook couldn't spare any cream. She's using it whipped in the jell-o salad for lunch." Harry explained as he carefully set the offering down in front of his teacher wincing slightly as he used his sore wrist. "And I'm sorry again … I asked for proper piece of pie because I know that's better… um… around this time of the … well all she had was a left over scone from breakfast. It was a little stale so I buttered it," he apologized as he returned to his seat.

Harry couldn't help but beam in pleasure when his teacher reached over, picked up the cup, took a large sip of the luke-warm goo, and had a glimmer of contentment settle over his stern features.

"And just what do you think your grinning at Mister …_'Krueger'_?"

"Er… nothing Mr. Nathraichean." Harry said immediately sitting up ramrod straight and wiping the smile off his face, replacing it with the stoic look he had practiced all weekend in front of the mirror.

"Good. Keep it that way." Severus said nodding at him with reluctant approval as he dipped the dry scone in his coffee and took a bite. He was satisfied that Harry bringing him his favourite breakfast had just been a lucky guess. In payment for the favour, he decided to be magnanimous and ignore the vocal segregates slipping back into the boy's speech… for now that is, a reminder later would suffice nicely. There was no need to overdo it - the boy might mistake it for praise, or worse that he 'liked' him, or some such nonsense. Halfway through the cup of coffee, Severus' headache was just starting to abate when it abruptly came back with the arrival of an unwanted visitor to his realm.

"Oh, Jeffy-Poo? Where are yoooouuuu?" Virgie Smythe sung out as she teetered into the classroom on her spiked heels, only to stop short when she saw that her quarry was not alone. Virgie suppressed a frown. It was recess time so she had not expected … a witness. Changing tactics slightly she blush coquettishly and giggled.

"Oh, sorry Jeffy-Poo… I mean _Mr._ Nathraichean. Principal Speer asked me to check on the budget for your April Arts and Crafts project, it's overdue." She explained, unable to keep from primping her hair and batting her eyes, small witness in the room or not.

'Jeffy-Poo' cringed visibly. _'Gods!' I should have thoroughly read through the C.V. Dumbledore gave me before I used it.'_ He knew better than to ever assume that man was doing him a favour as the Headmaster always had an ulterior motive for even the most innocuous of gestures. _'Jeff'_ - where in Merlin's name did he come up with that one? _'Nathraichean'_ was bad enough… but _'Jeff'?_ Whatever _was_ the old goat thinking?

"My budget Ms. Smythe is zed," he said succinctly as to not encourage her familiarity.

"Do call me Virgie," she perched flirtatiously on the edge of his desk playfully drawing loop-de-loops along his leg, completely oblivious to his attempted brush-off. Ever since she laid her eyes on the new tall dark and single temporary teacher, she had been trying to finagle a way to get her extremely long manicured nails into him. Knowing now that he was a widower, and his gruff exterior was only shielding a fragile wounded heart, she was even more determined. She would have made a play for the last temporary teacher as well, but every time she got near him, he looked ready to keel over and die. She primped a bit more and crossed her legs, pleased with the debilitating effect she had on men. "I can get you extra glitter… if you ask nicely. I have the key to the cabinet."

"Thank you _Madame_, but we will not be in the need of 'glitter' for the rest of the term." …_'and would someone please shoot me in my other leg if I change my mind'… "_As I said, the budget for this class is zed - zero - naught. In addition, I would ask you to kindly remove your hand from my knee." He abruptly stood up to hasten her compliance.

His sudden movement caught her off balance and she fell forward against his chest as he stood, knocking over the last of the coffee. Slightly breathless she asked, "No glitter? None at all? You're not just trying to wind me up are you? You big tease."

"I assure you I am quite definite on the matter. No glitter. No glue." He righted her and held her firmly at arm length.

Virgie looked aghast. He actually meant it! A primary class without glue and glitter was like steak without ale! Fish without chips! It would be like sentencing all the little darlings to a dull grey prison cell without windows, nothing bright and cheery to light up their days. She just couldn't imagine it as she personally lived for shiny sparkly things. She looked at the object of her infatuation with new harsher eyes.

The brute!

"But you simply must!" she insisted.

"No, I simply mustn't. There is no need. Arts and Crafts have been adequately handled through alternate means," he announced with a satisfied sneer and dismissed her with a wave of his hand, the movement of which he used to disguise casting a small spell, causing the split coffee to disappear before it completely ruined his papers.

"But whatever will I tell Principal Speer? He's waiting for your budget request before he doles out the supplies! The _entire_ school is on hold!"

"You may inform the Principal that the entire school needn't wait another minute. Furthermore, he may feel free to be overly generous with the… glitter… to the other classes. We will not be requiring any whatsoever. Glitter is an abomination."

"But it's… _its sparkly!" _Virgie gasped and then surprised Harry by unexpectedly whirling around and starting to grill him directly. "Is that true little boy? Do you dislike it too?"

Harry gulped and tried to think quickly as the Principal's assistant stared at him with hard suspicious bear like eyes. He hadn't even thought she noticed he was in the room and now here he was - trapped with no way out!

Severus held his breath. _'The little brat wouldn't dare…'_

"Er… y-yes… yes Ma'am… it's tr-true… glitter is… bad… it's m-messy and gets everywhere." he stuttered under her glare. With her neck craned up like that, she reminded him a lot of Aunt Petunia when she was especially unhappy with him.

Virgie sniffed, still not totally convinced, but reluctantly accepted the explanation. "Very well, I will let the Principal know." She started to leave, but then paused in the doorway. "Oh, I almost forgot - Principal Speer also wanted me to remind you that it's your duty to patrol the playground during recess. You missed all last week."

"You may inform Principal Speer, that regrettably, I will not be available to serve in that capacity for the remainder of the term."

"And may I tell him why not?"

"As you can clearly see for yourself, I must supervise my student while he serves detention, during _both_ morning and afternoon recess periods. As you must be well aware by now, my student is quite incorrigible. I cannot leave him to his own devises. Otherwise, I fear he would most likely attempt to burn down the school once again." he added to dissuade further questions.

Virgie's eyes narrowed at Harry and looked him up and down. She readily recognized him as the Dursley boy's 'fire-bug' orphan cousin and it reminded her of all the other 'incidents' she had documented against him for the Principal. "Is that so?" she mused,

"Yes Ma'am!" Harry started to answer with a bit more enthusiasm that was appropriate considering his detention status, then catching a stern look and an imperceptible shake of the head from his teacher, he finished with a properly chastised demeanour by slouching, hanging his head, and admitting, "I _am_ incorrigible Ma'am, horribly so. If it weren't for Mr. Nathraichean, I would already be attending St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. You see, I have these uncontrollable urges to cause trouble… in fact unless he stops me, I will probably act up during lunch today as well. I… I just can't bloody well help myself…" he shrugged helplessly.

"What did I tell you about that Mister…_'Krueger'?"_ his teacher hissed at him.

"What?" Harry glanced up quickly, honestly bewildered by the question at first, then seeing his teacher towering over him ramrod straight, he gasped at his error, "Oh right! No shrugging, no slouching, and no swearing." Immediately he obeyed by sitting up straight again, but at the same time he tried his best to imitate one of his cousin's most fearsome scowls so that he would still look wilful and obstinate to Ms. Smythe.

"You do have your work cut out for you with that one." Virgie sniffed disdainfully, once again reminding Harry of his Aunt Petunia's attitude whenever he came into her house.

"Sadly true, however he does make a point that I overlooked. Please include my regrets that I must also withdraw from lunchroom duty to the Principal when you see him. It seems I will be supervising Mister…_'Krueger'_ during the lunch period as well. You are dismissed." He said nodding towards the door meaningfully.

Virgie sniffed again and stalked out of the classroom with her nose in the air, slamming the door behind her, her high heels clicking angrily all the way down the hall. Her perfume hung so heavy in the air it was several moments before the pair realized she had actually left.

As the air cleared, and the echoes of her rapid footsteps faded, both Harry and Severus heaved a sigh of relief. The only thing left was the slow tick-tick-tocking of the classroom wall clock, counting down the minutes until the rest of the students would tumble in once again. No other sound dared break the tenuous silence. Teacher and student sat and stared uncomfortably at each other for the longest time until an unspoken truce was agreed upon between them.

Severus cleared his throat. "I suppose you will be demanding a reward for your appalling behaviour, and audacious overacting."

Harry thought about that. He believed that he had finally discovered why he was on 'detention' so much, and it was to his great relief that it wasn't because Mr. Nathraichean actually thought he was bad; it was just that he was a convenient excuse. His teacher couldn't deny now that he was using him as the reason why he could not act as playground monitor, something that he apparently detested doing very much. So much so, that he willing stayed cooped inside with someone he disliked instead.

It was as he was confirming his teacher's alibi to the Principal's assistant, that it had dawned on him that Mr. Nathraichean probably hated lunchroom duty even more intensely than playground duty. Harry could quite clearly picture his teacher's sour face whenever they principal forced him to patrol the tables. Those days always seemed to coincide with nasty afternoon pop quizzes. With that in mind, Harry willingly sacrificed himself by throwing the last of his free time in as an unexpected bonus. So yes, he thought he_ did_ deserve something in return…

"What is it you want then? Spit it out."

"Well, I was wondering if you would…" Harry started to reach into his desk but stopped as the door opened and the other twenty-one students shoved and pushed each other through the doorway, leaving the bargain hanging unfinished between them.

"Cheeky brat," Mr. Nathraichean muttered under his breath and finished the rest of his thought silently while his obsidian eyes bored holes through Harry's resolve until the boy shoved whatever it was he was starting to take out of his desk back in.

'_He's just like his arrogant father. I wager he wants me to sign an apology he's already prepared, or something equally undeserved, something that he can use to blackmail me with later. Well, he can forget it. I would rather be lunchroom monitor… scratch that… one more day of having to watch a bunch of imbecilic dunderheads eat with their mouths open and throwing food at each other, and Dumbledore will be checking me into St. Mungo's mental ward. Blast it all… I do owe the brat!' _

Severus scowled his way through the rest of the morning's lessons. Acknowledging yet another debt to the House of Potter did not improve his mood one iota. By lunchtime, he was seriously starting to regret Potter's sacrifice on his behalf. What in Merlin's name was he supposed to do with the boy for another hour - _every day_? That one time had been bad enough. Besides, he had grown used to having the lunch hour to himself on days he didn't have to patrol tables, and he was wont to give it up. Of course the Headmaster would be pleased no end and would call it a 'happy accident' – his eyes would even probably twinkle when he heard! Perhaps the boy would forget all about it and leave with the others for lunch. He could then revel in the peace and quiet. Only when the noon bell rang and the rest of the class tumbled out the door heading for the cafeteria, Harry made no move to budge from his seat and follow the others.

"Should you not be going to lunch as well?" Severus inquired solicitously through gritted teeth. Other than shaking his head 'no' and then stubbornly taking a sack lunch out of his desk and starting to chew on a sandwich Harry still didn't budge from his seat. So... he was going to honour his deal. Fine. Two can play at that game.

"Very well then, if you insist on remaining…_ voluntarily_… we should make good use of this time and not waste another moment." Severus announced striding up to the blackboard and writing the next vocabulary word on it in large letters.

"O – P – P – R – E –S –S –O – R, Oppressor." Severus glided across the floor until he stood directly in front of Harry and then leaned down until they were almost nose-to-nose. Harry about choked on the bite he was eating when he asked him in a low monotone voice, "Tell me Mister…_'Krueger', _do you know what it is like to be… 'oppressed'?"

At Harry's puzzled look at the question, Severus just sniped 'then it is time you do', and snatched the partially eaten sandwich out of his hand with his left hand, and scooped up the rest of Harry's sack lunch with his right, and stalked back to the front of the room.

"Hey! That's my lunch!"

"Now it is mine. You decided to force yourself on my private time unbidden, therefore that is the price you will pay as I am ultimate authority in this classroom."

"But that's not fair! You said you'd give me a reward!" Harry howled in distress.

"Fair? Fair to whom? 'Fair' is a relative term. Said 'fairness' depending entirely on your point of view. From where I stand, confiscating your lunch is entirely fair… to me." Severus smirked as he rifled in the sack and drew out a large red juicy apple. Harry's eyes got big and round and he bit into it. "And to clarify, I did not promise you a reward for your atrocious display of overacting. I simply asked if you thought you deserved one."

Harry sulked in his seat. This was not going well.

"That settled - to continue our lesson, which category does the word 'Oppressor' fall?"

"Nouns," Harry grumbled back.

"Very good. Etymology?"

"I don't know." Harry said crossly, and added under his breath _'…and I don't care.'_

"What was that?"

"I don't know...Sir."

"Then let me elucidate my young pupil. 'Oppressor' comes from the transitive verb 'oppress' which dates back to fourteenth century Middle English through Anglo-French and ultimately to its Latin roots of 'ob' – against, and 'premere' – to press. What lesson, you might ask, does such an ancient word serve us today?"

As Severus warmed to his lecture – both asking and answering all the questions with lengthy words strung together into even lengthier sentences, all delivered in that low deliberate monotone voice – Harry's mind started to wander. He was worried about the egg. He knew something was wrong as the vibes he had been getting from it for the past few hours had been growing steadily weaker.

He needed help, but from whom?

His first thought was to ask his godfather, Uncle Remmy. Uncle Remmy was always patient and had great ideas on solving problems without getting anyone into trouble, and he was almost sure he would understand that he hadn't meant to leave the egg unguarded and at Dudley's mercy. Only Uncle Remmy had also told him on the way to school, that as soon as he got back to the flats he was barricading himself in until after the full moon. Harry didn't think the egg could wait that long.

His second inclination was to turn to his other godfather for help, but he knew he couldn't ask him either. Uncle Siri had entrusted the egg to him, and he couldn't bear to see the disappointment he was sure he'd see in his eyes if he told him he left it unguarded where Dudley could find it. He would say that it wasn't Harry's fault, but somehow Harry doubted if he would mean it. Besides, Uncle Siri's great ideas usually got them both into trouble more times than not. He also couldn't ask Mr. Krueger for help. He already thought Harry wasn't worth the bother, and this morning he had inconvenience him once again. It had been unintentional, and he really didn't know how it happened, but he didn't want to give Mr. Krueger any more cause to think worse.

He could _maybe_ ask Mrs. Krueger … she seemed genuinely interested in what he was doing, and she knew how to patch things up – she even put a bandage on Dudley when he didn't even need one! Maybe she would know how to bandage the egg and make the little creature inside feel better. It was a good idea but he was reluctant to act on it, as he still hadn't done the one thing she kept asking him to do for her – make an appointment for her with his teacher. In fact, he had actively avoided her all weekend just so he wouldn't have to tell her what Mr. Nathraichean had said about her last request. He was only grateful she had been distracted this morning and hadn't thought to ask him about it again, as she had every school morning during the past week.

He wished he hadn't chicken out of asking his teacher for help earlier during the morning recess. Mr. Nathraichean seemed to be an authority on absolutely everything under the sun. Surely, he would know what to do to save the egg, but he also seemed a trifle ticked off today. Deep down Harry knew he was the reason why - by showing up too early this morning he spoiled everything somehow. Why couldn't he have waited and come with Dudley? Why did he always have to mess everything up?

Severus was becoming increasingly cross. Here he was, giving up his time to help the ungrateful little wretch, and Potter wasn't even paying attention. He had even provided him with a clear practical demonstration of someone oppressing the rights of another, by confiscating the boy's own lunch and then eating it right in front of him. Then did the obstinate child thank him for his selflessness? No. In fact, Potter was obviously thinking about something else entirely different – that glazed look on his face was a dead giveaway. Why should he be surprised? He had already ascertained that Potter's little mind really wasn't big enough to hold more than one thought at a time. It was probably genetic. Potter Senior suffered from the same affliction.

_**SLAM!**_

Harry had just lifted up his desktop, to peek inside and check on the egg, when his teacher came up and slammed it back down, making him wince with pain as he twisted his sore wrist out of the way to prevent his fingers from being squashed flat.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?"

Severus sneered down at him. "If you had been listening to the wisdom I was endeavouring to impart to you for the past half hour, then you would already know that the answer to that question is because that is what oppressors do. They abuse power, they bully the weak, they crush the timid, they torture the meek, and they persecute the innocents. They are dictators whose sole purpose on this earth is to subjugate anyone that in their omnipotent opinion is inferior to themselves. One such as you would be an excellent example of such a mediocre being. My advice to you should you ever come across such an individual would be to run away. Fast."

"…oh…" Harry knew that there wasn't anything he could say to justify his inattention, so he just sat there holding his injured wrist close to his chest and trying his best to look as if he didn't care what the teacher thought of him, even though he did… quite a lot.

"Yes… 'oh'," Severus drawled, his intense black eyes flashing with anger. He was glad he had made his point but there was something wrong with the picture in front of him. He had intended to intimidate Potter in the same manner of Lord Voldemort, and the boy did indeed seem cowed, but if his eyes did not deceive him, it was not for the reason it should have been. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. _'Gods! If Potter's keepers did something to him on my watch, Dumbledore will never let me hear the end of it!'_

"Mister…_'Krueger' _I do not take kindly to my handiwork being spoilt."

"What do you mean?"

"Must I spell everything out for you? Well obviously I must," Severus jeered and took a firm hold on Harry's wrist, pulling it up where he could inspect it closely. He was brusquer than he intended to be, but he was having a hard time dealing with the feeling of guilt he had that he hadn't noticed the boy was hurt earlier. He should have. All the indications were there - the awkward way the boy held his pencil, his slow careful movements. He had to ask himself, had all this time in Muggleville dulled his skills of observation, or did he just not want to see what was right in front of him because it was Potter? "I am asking why you have become damaged again, and so soon after I finished healing all those nasty bruises. It shows a decided lack of appreciation on your part."

"…it… it was an accident," Harry said softly.

Severus eyes opened wide in disbelief, certain that the boy was outright lying to him and covering for his abuser again. "Was this the same type of 'accident' that caused the aforementioned contusions? The origin of which is still under some debate?"

As Mr. Nathraichean wrenched his wrist in various directions, to ascertain the extent of his sprain, Harry couldn't help but let an 'ouch' or two escape as he answered. "Er… no, Dudley didn't hurt my wrist, it was my Uncle Sir… _ouch! E_r… what I meant to say was…_ seriously_ Sir, it really doesn't hurt that much this time, so you can… _ouch!..._ let go… anytime now…" Harry's voice trailed off and he started biting his lip, hoping that his teacher didn't notice his slip of the tongue when he almost said Uncle Sirius' name - how could he be so stupid!

Severus was annoyed. Potter's abrupt silence was as good as an admission, and yet the boy was still trying to place the blame on someone other than Mr. Neglectful-at-best. Still if he was telling the truth, and yet another person caused his injury whilst being guarded, he didn't even want to think about what might have transpired during all the years when he had not had monitoring. Severus was at a loss at how to proceed with this new information, as all of Potter's tales of woe had the same reoccurring theme although he repeatedly denied it. It was as if the boy was a magnet for abusive people.

"And is this 'uncle' normally abusive to you?" There is nothing like a direct question Severus thought, as he pulled Potter behind him to the front of the classroom where he fished a roll of elastic bandage out of his bottom desk drawer and proceeded to wrap the boy's hurt wrist with it. _'Try to dodge that one Potter.'_

"He didn't mean to…" Harry started slightly out of breath from all of his teacher's tender loving care.

"I didn't ask you if he meant to hurt you. I asked you if it happens often."

"No it doesn't! Really! He's never hurt me before." Harry's denial was a little too vehement for Severus' liking. "He loves me… at least he _says_ he does… but…"

"But what?"

"But-but he loves Dudley more." Harry said wistfully his eyes downcast.

"And that surprises you?" Severus didn't ask to be cruel, but because he thought that Harry was referring to Dudley's father, who would of course be partial to his own son over his nephew-in-law. It never occurred to him that it could be some other thought-to-have-drown-in-the-sea-while-trying-to-escape-from-Azkaban-mangy-cur-of-an-uncle.

"I guess not. Everyone likes Dudley better."

Severus snorted derisively as he secured the end of the bandage. "It is best not to offer sweeping generalizations as facts, as I can state categorically that I do not prefer Mister Dursley. Therefore, your data, as well as your reasoning, is indeed flawed." With that said, he then handed Harry a small vial of sludgy looking liquid to drink.

"You don't? Really?" Harry pulled a face at the awful taste left in his mouth after downing the gunk in one gulp, not even asking what it was first. Severus took note of his foolish unquestioning trust as another thing to work on during a future detention.

"Must I always repeat myself to you?" Severus asked shortly and started rifling in the drawer again, muttering under his breath something that Harry couldn't quite hear. As if by magic, he produced a bag filled with cooling ice from his bountiful drawer and held it tight on the injured area while he mulled over his next move. What he needed to do was force Potter to see the ugly truth, and punching holes in his story would help him do just that, so he started hammering him with rapid-fire questions.

"How long has your wrist been in this condition?"

"Uh… it just happened this morning - at breakfast."

"And who caused it?"

"My… uncle?" Harry was a little confused as he knew he had already told him that, and knowing his teacher's distaste for repeating information he wasn't sure why he kept asking him the same thing over and over again.

"It was not your uncle. I demand you answer me truthfully."

"I am! Honest! It was my uncle, but he really didn't mean to do it!"

"Oh really?" he said slowly, quirking an eyebrow, "Then I was woefully misinformed."

"Misinformed? A-about what Sir?" Mr. Nathraichean seemed angry, but for the life of him, Harry couldn't think of anything about which he had lied to his teacher.

"I was notified by Principal Speer that your uncle was currently incarcerated." At Harry's blank look, Severus put it more plainly. "I was told your uncle was in prison and therefore it was impossible for him to have physically hurt you this morning. Is that not true?"

"No, he was," Harry nodded, anxious to clear it up. "But he's not anymore! He escaped!"

"He escaped?" Severus tried to reconcile the mental image he had of Vernon Dursley with that of someone who could outwit and outrun the authorities, and could not.

At first, Harry was just relieved that he hadn't been the one to deceive his teacher. Only when his teacher repeated what he said back to him he realized that in his haste to correct the new misconception and prove he hadn't lied, he had accidentally blurted out the carefully kept family secret. If the wrong people found out about Uncle Siri, he could lose him, and therefore his dog Cosmos, forever!

"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone! He's hiding and no one is supposed to know where he is! So don't tell anyone okay? Pleeeeeeaaasseeee? I'll get into so much trouble!"

Severus' eyes narrowed as he contemplated the request, he could feel Potter's pulse starting to race under his firm grip. What could it possible matter to anyone outside of the Dursley clan, if Vernon Dursley was out of jail? Besides, he highly doubted that Potter's uncle had actually escaped, more likely he was out on bail and was ashamed to face his neighbours, and so was 'hiding' until the gossip died down. Noting Potter's distress over the matter, he decided that perhaps he could use the knowledge to his advantage. Declining to promise one way or the other he sneered delicately with flared nostrils and informed Harry that 'begging doesn't become a follower of Salazar' and to occupy his mouth with something more constructive such as eating the rest of his lunch.

Harry shut up and glared daggers at his teacher for that uncalled for remark, but gladly accepted back the lunch sack Mr. Nathraichean handed him anyway. Severus was glad that the child was back to his normal irritatingly Gryffindorish spunky self, not that he personally appreciated the trait, but it was a relief that he had at least quit whinging.

In between bites Harry commented, "I thought you weren't going to let me eat my lunch."

"What do you take me for? An oppressor? I will have you know that I do not make it a practice to starve growing children." his teacher smirked patronizingly as he took pleasure in finishing off the rest of the pilfered apple - no need to let it go to waste!

That was good to know Harry thought and filed the random bit of information away right next to his teacher's 'I do not hurt children' declaration. It was just too bad that Mr. Nathraichean didn't have as strong a conviction against ridiculing children. His obvious enjoyment of that pastime made it very hard for Harry to get up the nerve to ask him for help with the egg. However, by the time he finished chewing the last bite of his sandwich he had steeled his resolve to do that very thing. He starting reaching into his desk to retrieve the egg to show it to his teacher, when his desktop slammed down again, only this time he wasn't quick enough to prevent his fingers from being pinched. Shocked, he looked up to see the leering face of his Cousin Dudley looming over him.

"Make fun of me, will you? You…_**YOU FREAK**__!_ I told you if you ever did that again, I would make sure you regretted it! And now I will… _for the rest of your miserable life!"_ Dudley leaned down with his two pudgy hands on desktop, keeping Harry trapped.

"Dudley let go! It hurts!" Harry yelped as he tried unsuccessfully to pull his fingers out.

"Good! It serves you right! Payback is mine!" Dudley jeered at him and leaned harder.

"Mister Dursley – far be it from me to deny you the retribution you feel so righteously justified in collecting on your own behalf, despite how disconcerting I find that concept. Nevertheless, my classroom is not the proper setting for such a social tête-à-tête. Kindly take your seat as class is about to resume and I require your attendance," Severus ordered dryly from just behind Dudley's left shoulder, in a low tone that at the same time sounded both disinterested, and threatening.

Harry stuck his fingers in his mouth and started sucking on the throbbing digits the instant they were set free, but it did little to soothe him, as it was more than his fingers that were hurt. His teacher seemed to be more concerned about conducting the class than he did about Dudley crushing his fingers! He hardly even yelled at him! If he understood him right, he'd only ordered Dudley not pick on him in class. It was just like when Aunt Petunia would tell Dudley not to punch him at the table because it might upset the milk jug. He knew Aunt Petunia didn't care as long as it didn't mess up her house, but he had begun to think Mr. Nathraichean did… a little, that's what hurt the most. He just didn't get it, one moment he seemed almost friendly, and in the next moment, it seemed as if he couldn't care a whit. Adults were so confusing!

"Please take your Geography books out of your desks…" Severus paused and gave Harry a rather long look before continuing and then he said something peculiar. "…along with any other _study aid_ you may find there. Then turn to page two hundred and twelve – we will be learning about Islands, Isles, and Islets. And_ please_… put away any distractions that may cause your waning attention spans to wane any further."

Severus stalked back up the aisle to the front of the room, not even breaking stride as he confiscated the miscellaneous slingshot and straw blowgun from the boys, and the occasional lip-gloss and folded posy note from the girls, along his way.

With Dudley out of range once again, Harry reached into his desk for his book and felt relief when his fingers met something cool. The ice bag! That must have been what his teacher meant by taking out 'a study aid'. Harry had to shake his head in wonder as he fingered the icy surface. He could have sworn that he had given it back to his teacher. He didn't remember putting it in his desk, anymore than he remembered climbing into the wrong bed the night before. He had never been able to explain even a tenth of the strange things that had always happened around him, not even when you threw magic into the mix, and there couldn't have been any magic this time. The only reasonable explanation he could come up was that his teacher must have noticed that he had absentmindedly kept the ice bag, and then called his attention to in a way that wouldn't embarrass him in front of the other kids. It gave him a new perspective on his teacher.

Harry beamed at Mr. Nathraichean, and got back a withering glare. He didn't care, he knew the truth - somewhere deep inside his prickly exterior, his teacher was hiding a centre of pure ooey-gooey marshmallow puffy goodness. He _did_ care about him! Harry beamed all the more - much to Severus' eternal irritation.

Harry iced his fingers gratefully until the throbbing stopped and then rested his sore wrist on it like a pillow, while his teacher drilled the class on small and large island nations and every size in between. Harry even volunteered a few answers and was pleased when he got most of them correct. He would have preferred it if his teacher had also given him another nod of approval. However, Mr. Nathraichean's carefully neutral acknowledgement of 'that was a somewhat passable response' after each correct answer, and his 'if you don't have anything worthwhile to contribute it's best to keep your mouth shut' after each wrong one, for some bizarre reason still buoyed his confidence tenfold. He supposed that was because, no matter if it was positive or negative feedback, at least his teacher wasn't totally ignoring him as if he weren't there. By the time bell rang for afternoon recess all ten of his fingers, his wrist, and his pride were all once again feeling top notch.

As the bag of ice melted, Harry regarded it thoughtfully and wondered how it had gotten in his desk without him remembering. He reconciled himself to never knowing, but it was still worrisome to him - that his memory was starting to develop as many holes in it as Mr. and Mrs. Krueger's had in theirs. Only it did give him a new perspective on them as well. Maybe forgetting him for so long wasn't completely their fault. If forgetting something, such as what you just did, was such a relatively easy thing to do, he supposed that could go for important things you were responsible for too… like little kids.

Why, even this very minute he had the funny feeling that he was forgetting something very important himself. It wasn't until the other children were filing out past their teacher for recess, and Mr. Nathraichean begrudgingly restored ownership of the Easter egg scrunchies to Katie, that he thought again of the egg hidden in his desk. The merry rattle of the little wooden eggs as Katie happily hopped out of the room, reminded him that he hadn't felt any vibes coming from it since lunch! As hatching the egg successfully, had been his diving purpose for over a week now, he had no idea how he could have forgotten about something so important!

After the last of his classmates went out the door, Harry took the nest box with its colourful egg out of his desk. Holding it carefully behind his back and out of sight, he slowly got up and approached Mr. Nathraichean's desk as quietly as he could. His teacher was just sitting there with his eyes closed, a pained expression on his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as if by doing so it was somehow holding it on his face. His whole manner made him look extremely unapproachable, and if it weren't for the desperate situation Harry wouldn't have bothered him, but he just had to ask. He only hoped it wasn't too late!

"Er… Mr. Nathraichean?"

Severus shuddered inwardly at the not so subtle reminder there was someone else in the room. Potter's voice was likes nails on the chalkboard to him. Couldn't the boy misbehave just this once and run out to play with the others and leave him alone? Did he _always_ have to be so nauseatingly well mannered? Could he not be a _normal_ exasperating nine-year-old for once? Was he a glutton for punishment or something? Severus wanted to demand answers to all these questions and more.

All these weeks down the drain and the child was still an enigma to him. For a spy who liked to know as much about his quarry as it was possible to know, it was an uncomfortable feeling. He knew that no child willingly stayed in the company of a snarky and cantankerous adult if he could find a way to wiggle out of it, except perhaps the stray Hufflepuff. Then that was only because Hufflepuffs had this peculiar idea that their mere presence could somehow spontaneously convert the snarky and cantankerous into someone as warm and cuddly as themselves. Well it wouldn't work with him. And if the genetically predisposed Gryffindor in front of him thought he was going to turn into a Hufflepuff, or anything else besides a full blown Slytherin, than he had that wrong too.

"What did I ask you to do about curbing your unrestrained use of vocal segregates?"

"Um… I think you said to do it… maybe?"

"There is no 'maybe' about it, so why have you not stopped?" Severus sniped irritably.

"I would stop Sir, if… ah… if I knew what a focal secretary was..." Harry stammered. Maybe this wasn't such a good time… or such a good idea. He started backing up.

Severus snapped.

"You need your hearing checked as well. Do not those keepers of yours tend to your basic needs at all? Oh never mind – one just has to look at you to know the answer to that one," he sneered to Harry's embarrassment. "So what is it you want this time? The last drop of my blood? To deaden my last brain cell? To fray my last nerve? Out with it you energy sucking vampire - tell me your latest demand!" Severus stocked towards the retreating boy until he had him backed into a corner quaking. "What is it then?"

"Er… nothing really Sir, honest!" Harry would have run, but he couldn't escape.

"Bah! I heard squirming while you gathered up your courage to solicit some new superfluous service of me. So out with it I say! WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME?"

"… _(cough)… _Ahem!"

The sound behind him stopped Severus' ranting cold. Never in his life had someone caught him unaware so often as since he started this insane assignment for the headmaster. It was not something he was proud of, neither was losing control.

"What I want is to address some slight issues that have arisen regarding your teaching techniques." A disapproving voice tut-tutted.

"My what?" Severus whirled around, the wand hidden in a holster under the sleeve of his jacket jumping unbidden into his hand, to face a bristling Principal Speer standing in the classroom doorway.

Coming in when he did, the position of the teacher had blocked Principal Speer's view of the small student cowering in the corner, and even now, Harry remained completely hidden behind Mr. Nathraichean. With lack of evidence of someone else whom the teacher might have been shouting at, Principal Speer assumed his outburst had been in reaction to his own arrival. Principal Speer did not take kindly to anyone shouting at him in his own school.

"Put that pointer away my good man! You could put someone's eye out waving it around like that," the portly man blustered. "I have a serious matter to discuss, and would like to do it rationally," he said patting the air in front of him with the palms of his hands as if to say 'calm down'.

Severus slid the wand back into its holster before Harry could get a good look at it, and then crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the principal.

"I am always ra-tion-al." He enunciated every syllable slowly as if talking to an imbecile, because who but an imbecile would mistake him, the most rational man on the planet, for an irrational person? Insinuating such was a blatant misrepresentation of the facts.

"Well as that may be, I have it on good authority that there are certain… _(ahem)_... shall we say 'irregularities' in your teaching methods, as well as a noted lack of classroom protocol and decorum that need to be addressed immediately."

Severus' eyes narrowed further into a deep scowl, he did not appreciate the Principal's cryptic critique. His methods weren't 'irregular', at least not to him. He preferred the term 'effective'. Moreover, he prided himself in never letting his class waiver very far from the strictest of codes of etiquette. When dealing with volatile items such as explosive potions, or unpredictable nine-year-olds, he found it more a matter of self-preservation and safety than of protocol and decorum. Anyone who was not a complete idiot should be able to see that, and prior to today he hadn't gained that impression of the Principal, as the man had wisely left him pretty much to his own devices. It made him wonder if this whole thing had something to do with Ms. Smythe's earlier visit.

Little did he know that the real reason for it lay with one Dudley Dursley. Dudley's preferred outlet for venting his frustrations, big and small, was to hunt down his freaky little cousin Harry and punch him real hard. However, between the Marauders sticking to him like glue every night and his teacher giving his cousin permanent detention every day, Dudley was left, as it were, 'ventless'. At first, Dudley thought it was funny that Harry was always in so much trouble, but then he realized the disadvantage to himself when his favourite punching bag was unavailable for duty. Since he couldn't get rid of the Marauders, as there were too many of them, Dudley decided the only alternative was that it was time for Mr. Nathraichean to go far far away.

With his parents unavailable to demand him fired, Dudley had tried to convince his Aunt and Uncle to lodge a complaint with the school's principal, for the alleged reason that the teacher was treating him unfairly by always picking on him. When his Aunt and Uncle declined to do so, and told him that dealing with strict teachers was character building, Dudley turned to his de facto guardians – Uncle Siri and Uncle Remmy – to do his dirty work. When they too made no move to champion his cause either, Dudley had to settle for griping about it to his gang loud and long, every chance he got.

Besides becoming sick of it, his gang was also all becoming a little leery that Dudley might decide to use one of them in place of Harry if things didn't change soon. By mutual agreement, the gang decided that they should help him, and it didn't hurt that they didn't like the stern taskmaster anymore than Dudley did. Mr. Nathraichean always seemed to know just when they were about to have fun, and would put a stop to it. They didn't know how he knew, he just did.

When Malcolm got home from school the Friday before, and his mother asked him how his day had gone, she got an earful about how the awful Mr. Nathraichean constantly mistreated his good friend Dudley. He also told her that with Dudley's parents away there was absolutely no one to stop it, because Dudley had to stay with people who didn't understand his delicate nature. Malcolm then slyly moaned about how if the teacher killed Dudley, that he was afraid that the mean old teacher would start mistreating him next, and it was making his stomach hurt to think about it.

Malcolm's mother of course didn't really believe that the teacher would actually commit homicide. However, after telephoning Dennis' mother and hearing that he had come home with similar tales, she relayed her fear over their son developing an ulcer at the tender age of nine, and the reason for it, to his father that evening while they watched the late night programs on television.

Malcolm's dad in turn brought it up to his golf partner on Saturday morning to ask him for his medical advice. His golf partner, a prominent paediatrician, also happened to be Gordon's father. Gordon's father discussed the sordid details with his wife when they met at the clubhouse for lunch.

Concerned over the tales of petty favouritism and tyranny in the classroom, Gordon's mum rushed home, pulled him aside, and interrogated him about whether or not he had ever experienced any similar episodes with the new teacher. Gordon gleefully confirmed Malcolm and Dennis' stories and then embellished on theirs with even more harrowing stories about the mean-spirited dictator of a schoolteacher.

Whilst playing three-handed bridge on Saturday night (the absent Petunia normally being the fourth) the mothers all agreed that they simply must do something before it affected their own precious boys. The situation was utterly untenable. Their boys should be enjoying school, not fearing it! The frantic mothers put their heads together and on a convenient cocktail napkin jotted down a petition of protest on their children's behalf, leaving the card party early to secure Pier's mother's signature as well.

Aghast at the tales she heard, Mrs. Polkiss dragged her son away from the cowboy show he was watching on television and interrogated him. After Pier's supplied his own highly embroidered account to those of the rest of the gang, Mrs. Polkiss gladly took on the job of delivering the petition into the right hands. The right hands, being those of Mr. Polkiss, who besides being head of the neighbourhood watch also served on the church council with Principal Speer. Mrs. Polkiss talked of nothing else on the drive to church the next morning, guaranteeing that Mr. Polkiss made sure the good man had the parent's petition in his hand before the day was done so that he wouldn't have to listen to her harp about it all the way home as well.

Prior to angry parents confronting him, Principal Speer had just been happy to have the teaching position filled. It had been a particularly frustrating year trying to keep a teacher employed for the class, and without a teacher, it would fall to him to teach it himself – something he preferred to avoid at all costs. He enjoyed the administrative aspect of education much more that he did 'being down in the trenches', and then preferred to do that administration from afar in a well-appointed office with air conditioning and his own mini-fridge. Now despite his preference to deal with his staff by using Ms. Smythe as his go-between, Principal Speer felt under pressure to deal with the uncooperative teacher himself.

"And just what is it that you find irregular in my teaching methods - my desire to impart meaningful knowledge, despite my student's lack of capacity to grasp the most rudimentary concepts? Or is it my insistence on good manners, contrary to their lackadaisical upbringings?"

"Ah… it is has come to me that… _(ahem)_… there is a certain level of favouritism being entertained, and ah… a lack of … ah… 'fun' for the students."

"Oh I see. This revelation just 'came' to you, as in a prophetic dream?" Severus inquired solicitously.

"No, no, no! Nothing queer like that! It was a parent who brought it to my attention."

"A 'parent'?" That shot down Severus' theory regarding Virgie. "You take direction on how to run your school from 'parents'?" The way he spat the word out made parents sound like the lowest form of life imaginable, and those that took their advice the second lowest form.

"Ah… not normally, however I got this note you see…" Principal Speer bristled that his intelligence and authority were under question.

"Oh my - a note. Well that makes all the difference in the world then doesn't it? From a 'mother' I presume?" Severus bristled back. He disliked notes, note-writers, and he had a very good idea who penned the latest note - Potter's infamous 'Mummy Krueger'.

"Why yes it was. How did you know?"

"I have the gift of being somewhat intelligent," Severus said dryly.

Principal Speer didn't doubt Mr. Nathraichean's intelligence, but he suspected that he possessed a different type of gift. As the few times he had met directly with the formidable man, he had always felt the other man could tell what he was thinking without him even doing any. No matter, either way, the same qualities in the teacher that made him feel ill at ease then, would be a boon to him now. He would need to supply very little explanation to deal with the matter at hand. It should be short and sweet.

"Good, then you will understand completely that I must demand you treat all the children in your class equally, and that you must make learning an enjoyable experience for them. You may start by leading your class in an Arts and Crafts project, as Ms. Smythe tells me you have none planned. Something suitably 'Eastery' would do nicely," he said with a small laugh, relieved that taking the man to task was easier than he feared.

"I understand nothing of the kind." Severus intoned slowly and clearly, with absolutely no trace of reciprocal humour in his voice.

Principal Speer was dumfounded. Drat it all! That's why he disliked dealing with teachers himself. They always made the most simple of requests difficult – insisting on interjecting their own points of view and examining alternate solutions, as if he were asking for advice instead of giving orders. They never just did what you told them. He blamed it on the British educational system, gave them too many ideas. Besides, he was positive he had been perfectly clear on his policies regarding the matter when he had hired him three weeks prior.

"But that is what teachers are supposed to do! Arts and Crafts are in your contract!"

"With all due respect Principal Speer, I beg to differ with you on that point. I have perused my written job description, in excruciatingly minute detail, and it does not mention it anywhere. See for yourself," he said pulling a conveniently handy copy the document in question out of his pocket and handing it over.

"It doesn't? Most peculiar." Principal Speer scanned it over perplexed. He was certain that he had written it in himself, in indelible ink, but it seemed to have vanished.

"Not once." Severus replied with satisfaction, pleased once again, that he was a wizard with all the magically unprotected document-editing powers that came with it. "I will take that back, and you may leave now, if you don't mind. I have a bothersome student issue to finish attending to, and you are interrupting," he said summarily dismissing the Principal and pocketing the contract once again.

Behind him, Harry let out a small gasp and clutched the egg tightly to his chest. He had been hoping that the Principal coming in had made his teacher forget all about him, at least enough to allow him to start over in quest of asking for help so he could rethink his approach, but no such luck.

"But I do mind!" Principal Speer sputtered. "There are other matters to discuss as well."

"Such as?"

"Such as… such as… Oh, good there you are!" The portly man turned as he heard high heels clicking furiously towards the classroom and was relieved to see his assistant come through the door to interrupt the awkward moment and quickly he patted his balding head to make sure the few hairs he had were still in place. He did not wish to bring up any more issues. In fact, his only desire at that moment was to get back to his office where no one disputed his authority. However, he resented being dismissed as if he were a subordinate, too much to leave it like that and Ms. Smythe always knew how to cut men down to size quite efficiently.

"Ms. Smythe, please tell Mr. Nathraichean what it is I expect of him." He ordered as pompously as he could to bolster up some of his trod upon status. Only Virgie had her own agenda and it didn't include silly things like catering to Principal Speer's petty insecurities. She was a woman on the hunt and the tall, dark, and available Mr. Nathraichean was her quarry. Their earlier encounter hadn't gone as planned, but thanks to her friend the Librarian, she was back with ammunition to renew the chase.

"Principal Speer expects you to return books to the lending library promptly or pay a fine, and I am here to collect." Virgie said handing him an overdue notice with the name 'Nathraichean' and the title 'Hatching Eggs for Dummies' written on it prominently. The look of outrage on his face was priceless, everything Arabella had promised and more.

When she had left the classroom earlier, she had gone directly to the school library to cry her eyes out on the sympathetic shoulder of the volunteer librarian. As it turned out the librarian, Arabella Figg had a bee in her own bonnet about the temporary teacher, only in a much different way.

One week before, on Monday morning April second, the house coat clad and slipper shod Mrs. Figg arrived for work and found the well ordered empire she was temporarily responsible for, anything but well ordered. Books had been scattered in haphazard piles everywhere, the Dewey Decimal system totally ignored! Books on flora comingled with books on fauna. Picture books were on the same shelves as chapter books, reference books were upside down and dictionaries turned on end. Someone had ransacked the library!

It took Mrs. Figg the better part of the week to restore the library to order (as Arabella's cover as a trifle barmy scatter-brained eccentric wasn't nearly the stretch that she told herself it was). Once she had managed to get it in the general vicinity of tidy, she ventured down to the office to lodge a complaint on behalf of the absent Librarian. The Principal chocked it up to the youthful high jinks of same gang of vandals who had made a shambles of the school's office during the Christmas break. Mrs. Figg knew it hadn't been the work of vandals, she even had the proof, but the Principal had pooh-poohed her away without looking at it.

The culprit was none other than the new temporary teacher – one 'Mr. Nathraichean' a.k.a. Severus Snape. Arabella knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt because he had even had the nerve to sign the checkout ledger for the one and only missing book: '_How to Hatch an Egg for Dummies'_. She had never heard of anything so brazen in her life, especially after Mister High-and-Mighty-Potions-Master had publically snubbed lowly-little-squib her.

When she had mentioned to her old friend Albus Dumbledore that Little Whinging was boring, since the Dursley's house had burned down thus giving her little to watch for him, he encouraged her to volunteer at the Primary School that Harry Potter attended, where he assured her she would have plenty to watch. Knowing Arabella's secret love of books, he mentioned that he had it on good authority that Mrs. Thomas, the regular librarian, had taken a long holiday, to recover from a recent upsetting episode when she had suffered from some odd hallucinations. Albus was rather certain the school could use some help, so in the end Arabella approached Principal Speer with the idea and was delighted when he took her up on her offer to be a volume volunteer.

The same day she started in the lending library Arabella made the acquaintance of the Principals' Assistant. Pegging her as a good resource for information, she tried to pump out all the gossip about the staff and students, but Virgie had a particular fixation on the new male temporary teacher who had just started a few days before Arabella.

Virgie's starry-eyed description sounded vaguely familiar – almost what a certain Potions Master might look if he dressed like a muggle and came out of his dungeon occasionally. Intrigued, Arabella made a point of looking for Snape's better looking muggle twin. As she was a volunteer, Principal Speer didn't invite Arabella to the school staff meetings. He also told her to 'stay out of the way of the teachers'. That made bumping into the elusive man accidentally anything but easy. When she finally caught sight of her little friend Harry punching him on the playground, she had to laugh. He was no twin!

Leave it to Dumbledore to bring the two most unlikely people in the world together. Arabella was glad that the Headmaster had taken her concerns about Harry's living conditions seriously, and that he had finally sent someone to check out his situation, even though he took his own sweet time to do it (she had brought up to him again almost a year ago) Only... sending Severus Snape? What was the man thinking? Didn't Albus realize the resulting electrical storm that would result when you mixed a storm cloud of a Potions Master with a sunny day like Harry?

Feeling part of the magical 'in-crowd' for once in her life, Arabella had sent Snape a friendly invitation to join her in the cafeteria for a cuppa. She thought he might like the benefit of her expertise on all things muggle. Of course, she couldn't come right out and say that as she sent the invitation via Ms. Smythe, having no owl to deliver it for her, so instead she substituted the more believable pretext of filling him in on the rules of the lending library since he was a 'newbie'.

While she waited for him, Arabella also toyed around with the idea of filling him in on the current goings on in Little Whinging, and the change in Harry's circumstances during the past few months in particular. Even though Dumbledore said he trusted Snape implicitly, Arabella knew Harry's secret wasn't hers to tell.

In fact, Arabella wouldn't have known about it herself if her kneazles (who had gone on the hunt for the missing boy) hadn't have told her where they found him. She figured that the missing Potters a.k.a. the Kruegers must have some good reason for hiding out in the muggle world and not wanting their presence known to the world at large. She was delighted for the little boy that the report of his parent's demise had been premature, and that he had his family back again, but wondered what had really happened that fateful Halloween night.

As she sipped her tea, it didn't occur to Arabella that the desperate and jealous Virgie had intentionally garbled her message to make sure no one got in her way, not even an older mousey widowed woman who was little competition in comparison. To Virgie a little competition with no fashion sense and questionable footwear was still competition. So not only did Snape let his cuppa go cold by unwittingly standing her up, but to quote Virgie he also said that 'he highly doubted that he would find the need to avail himself of the limited resources that a mediocre school librarian would have to offer'.

"Fine! Be that way, you bat!" Arabella irritably assumed Snape had turned her down because he didn't want to associate with a squib, not knowing that Virgie had simply told Snape that the invitation was from 'the volunteer librarian' and hadn't identified her to him as Arabella Doreen Figg as she had asked her to. Arabella tried not to let it hurt her feelings, but even after all these years of the wizarding world putting her down as a lower being, it still did, a lot. In retribution, she took great pleasure in encouraging Virgie in her unwelcome pursuit of him every chance she got.

From her observations of the dour man over the years, Arabella had formed the opinion of him as being frugal and a bit tight fisted when it came to money. His clothes were of quality materials, but they were simple in cut and not plentiful in number, and they most definitely were not the latest of fashion. She also seemed to recall hearing that he still lived in the same rundown house in which he grew up. It was her hunch that he wouldn't appreciate a bill handed to him, but in her mind, he had asked for it. After all a 'mediocre librarian', such as she, had to do everything she could to make the greatest use of her 'limited resources'.

In actuality, the little lending library was quite a nice one and offered an eclectic mix of books to cover all interests. Mrs. Thomas, the regular librarian loved books so much that she devoted much of her spare time (and a small portion of her personal monthly pension) towards locating and purchasing new acquisitions that she thought would be a benefit to the school and the children who attended there. All she asked in return was that borrowers treat her books as kindly as they did their friends, and then see to it that they returned them promptly within two days time so others could enjoy them too.

When she was reorganizing the books, Arabella had uncovered a few extremely rare hand printed volumes on exotic plants, which could not even be found in the large library in London (Mrs. Thomas had picked them up at a tag sale in the Cotswold for five pence each!). Arabella knew if Snape had been aware of the rare gems the little library had to offer he would have been haunting it instead of the alley where her cats had been keeping tabs on him. However, if Snape still thought he was too good to step foot in it while she was there, and preferred to do his browsing in the dark… then too bad for him.

To Arabella's reckoning the missing book was now exactly four days six hours thirteen minutes and fifty seven seconds past due. Mrs. Thomas charged the children the rate of one recess working for her in the library for each day the returned books late. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Arabella chuckled at the thought of Snape at her beck and call. Well far be it for her to force her company on him - he was a big boy now, and big boys surely would pay a monetary fine… wouldn't they?

"Let's see… let's make it two pence an hour… so that would make the fine: four times twenty-four plus six is one hundred two, doubled, and then rounding up (of course). Plus a little something for my time... an even fifteen pounds ought to suffice nicely!"

Arabella hummed a merry tune as she did her duty toward the regular librarian by writing up multiple copies of a past due invoice for Virgie to deliver.

"I refused to pay a fine as I borrowed no such volume!" Severus denied vehemently ripping the past due reminder in half and tossing it to the ground, where a small hand reached out from behind him picked it up.

Harry sucked in a breath when he read it… _'Uncle Siri… what did you do?'_

Virgie stifled a laugh. How did Arabella know Jeffy-Poo would rip up the bill? No matter, she had provided several duplicates in case of that very event!

"Come come sir! Man up to your blunder. I have a strict policy: Bring me your mistakes early, and you have a partner in finding a solution. Bring me your mistakes late, and you have a judge."

Severus appraised the pompous man. It was clear that no matter what he said, any mistake brought to his attention he would deem as 'late'. "The fact remains – no matter the date, nor the hour – I have made no 'blunder'."

"Now I am sure that the librarian will forgive the debt if you simply return the-the… what did you borrow? Oh yes, the 'Dummies' book. Ha-ha! Those feisty librarians - quite possessive about their books you know." Principal Speer offered as a solution as he edged out of the room, eager to escape the teacher's unpleasant company. "I will leave my assistant to negotiate the matter for you as I must be going, many pressing matters to attend to you know - a principal's job is never done. Which reminds me - I still expect you to do something fun and Eastery with the children, even if it isn't in the contract."

"I tell you, I have no interest in nurturing an egg, no matter its level of intelligence!" Severus yelled at the principal's retreating back "AND I DO NOT DO FUN!"

Harry's heart sank into his tatty trainers. Mr. Nathraichean didn't sound like he liked eggs at all… however, that did explain his revulsion to Katie's Easter egg hair scrunchies, and the entire topic of the Easter holiday. How could he possibly get him to help now?

"If he wants something Eastery, I'll give him something Eastery... I wonder how he'd look in a bunny suit…" Severus muttered darkly his hand caressing the wand through his jacket sleeve, but thoughts of hexing his muggle boss were all but forgotten when Virgie simply smiled and handed him another copy of the invoice. His hand clenched around it.

"I could perhaps… just mark that 'paid' for you Jeffy-Poo… if you'd just do just one iddy-biddy teensy-weensy thing for iddle-widdle me." Virgie said sweetly.

Taking his hand in hers, she pried open his cold dead feeling fingers to retrieve the paper. Then she tucked it down inside her lacy camisole top and smiled, showing every one of her perfectly capped teeth to their sparkling white advantage.

"What do you intend to demand in reparation you redundant she-devil? My first born?" Severus seethed.

"Oh my Jeffy-Poo! What a tiger you are. RrrrrRrrrr!" Virgie purred. "And here I thought you would want to start slow, with say… dinner at my place?"

Severus' jaw dropped open when he realized she had tricked him.

"Er… Ma'am? Maybe I can help you?" a small voice interrupted.

Virgie looked around wildly, her eyes finally alighting on a pair of brilliant green ones peeking out from behind Jeff Nathraichean. The little troublemaker again!

"You are not invited," she frowned at the boy.

"OH NO! I didn't mean that! I meant this…" Harry said bravely coming out and handing her the torn copy of the invoice with one hand, while still holding the egg protectively out of sight behind his back with the other. "My teacher didn't borrow it… um… I did… sort of. That makes him right. He shouldn't have to pay anything for it being late. I-I should. Only I don't have any money."

"You?" Virgie looked at him doubtfully. "But the checkout ledger has Jeffy-Poo's… um... your teacher's name on it not yours. The librarian showed it to me."

"Er… yeah… um… about that…"

Harry would have been cross with his godfather for putting him in this position, but true to his nature he blamed himself for not having asked where the book came from. He should have known no one would have actually given him something he got to keep.

"You see Mr. Nathraichean didn't know anything about it… but I thought it was okay to… to… er…write his name down since it was for… ah… our class project! That right! Our class 'Happy Easter' egg project!" The lie popped unbidden out of Harry's mouth when he felt the egg giving off a few weak vibrations through his hand.

"Class project? What class project?" Both Severus and Virgie said in unison.

"Er… you remember Mr. Nathraichean… the Easter Arts and Crafts project you thought of… hatching the Easter egg? Remember?"

"Refresh my memory." Severus countered. "I seem to be slightly hazy on the details."

"Remember? The egg? You put me in charge of it last weekend so I took it home with me. Er… that's why I needed the book, to make sure I was taking care of it right. I didn't want to disappoint you. But I wasn't sure if I could take the book out over the weekend, because that would make Monday three days, and Mrs. Thomas only lets us kids take her books out for two. I thought if I put your name on it instead of mine, it would be alright if I had it for longer… since you're taller than me… it kind of made sense…"

Harry prattled on non-stop as he shoved the nest box with its egg at his teacher, ran to his desk and retrieved the library book out of his book bag under his chair, and then ran back to thrust the missing volume into Ms. Smythe's hands.

"Here it is. See? It wasn't Mr. Nathraichean's fault at all! I had it all along, I just forgot to return it when I came in this morning, I meant to. Really I did! So is everything okay now? Will you tell Mrs. Thomas I'm sorry? I know it's overdue but like I said, I don't have any money to pay the fine… usually she has me work in the library shelving books anyway, but Mr. Nathraichean gave me detention for the rest of the term so I can't this time. But if there is something else I could do to make it up to her, I will." Harry smiled at her engagingly, hoping against hope that she wouldn't be able to tell he had just made the whole thing up.

"I think you've done quite enough already." Virgie said with narrowed eyes.

"Oh good!" Harry grinned happily at his teacher, who acknowledged it with a slight nod. Both reactions only served to annoy Virgie no end.

"That means you'll leave now… right? Mr. Nathraichean needs to finish yelling at me before the other kids come back. I'm incorrigible you know," Harry finished up proudly.

"You're not the only one." Virgie declared as book in hand she marched out of the room.

When the angry click-click of her heels died away, Severus turned to Harry and slowly raised one eyebrow. "I do not 'yell' at children. I admonish where appropriate. However, I have no desire to admonish you for an incorrect infraction, so you had better explain yourself my young friend. Now, if you don't mind."

Despite the tone, Harry decided to take the order in a positive light since he used the word 'friend'. "Er… what do you want to know Sir?" he asked carefully avoiding his teacher eyes by staring at the one raised eyebrow on the otherwise expressionless face.

"Start by explaining this sorry excuse for a class Easter project." Severus said disdainfully, holding the nest box at arm's length by his fingertips.

"It's an egg." Harry thought that was apparent from the shape alone, even if it were dyed garish colours. He was surprised he had to explain something so ordinary to someone with such an overly large vocabulary of overly long words.

"Are you absolutely sure about that?"

"Oh yes." Harry nodded vigorously, taking the egg back and holding it lovingly. "But…"

Harry was hesitant to ask except that he had just done Mr. Nathraichean a really big humongous favour so he felt justified in taking the risk "…but could we keep it a secret class project for… just me? Not… um… the whole class? _Especially_ not Dudley?"

Severus studied the boy thoughtfully. The desire in his voice was palpable.

"The use of the term 'class' in the name of the project, dictates the involvement of your peers in some fashion. You do understand that don't you?"

"Oh… I didn't think of that." Harry said disappointedly.

"I am curious. Why did you offer it, if you wanted to keep it for yourself?"

"Because Sir, I didn't want you to be in trouble because of me, and I had to…I had to…"

"Go on. You had to what?"

"I had to save you..." Harry was at a loss for words to continue, he didn't want it to come out wrong. He felt a certain kinship with his teacher knowing that he had lost his family too and was all alone. He thought that maybe his teacher was only being nasty because there was no one to be on his side. Being alone, maybe acting defensive was the only way he had to protect his heart. Harry knew how that felt. It felt bad.

"I see." Severus said nodding.

"You do?"

"Quid pro quo."

"Squid for crows?" Harry tried to parrot.

"No you silly child – 'quid pro quo'. It is a term meaning an equal exchange – giving something to get something. "

"Oh, but I don't want anything from you!"

"Of course you do." Severus sneered suspiciously. "Why else would you decide to 'save me' from Ms. Smythe without my permission? Not that I needed 'saving', mind you."

"No really! I don't! You've already done so much that I can't even begin to repay you!"

Severus snorted. "What have I done to garner this level of gratuitous indebtedness?"

"You stood up for me to Ms. Smythe and the Principal and didn't let them send me away when they said I started that fire ...and you didn't let Dudley eat my lunch either! ...and you made my hurts go away! ...and you are helping me get potential! Don't you see? It's like you said last week – you're an admirable person. Now if only you could…"

"Ha! I knew it! You do want something. I warn you, flattery will buy you naught."

"But I don't want anything… at least, not for me. It's the egg. I think Dudley poisoned it."

"Mister Dursley did what?"

"The book said to be careful not to get anything on the shell except a little clean warm water… because it's porous you see… that means stuff can go through it…"

"I know what 'porous' means." Severus said dryly. "Go on."

"Er… right. Well Dudley got mad, and he thought the egg was mine, so he tried to ruin it. Now it's ill. That's why I don't want Dudley to get it." Harry patted the egg protectively.

"Is that the only reason?" Severus queried, he was certain that Potter was holding something back.

Harry wondered if now was a good time to mention how his future hung in the balance with the outcome of the egg. It would be a relief to confide in someone about all his worries and concerns, and to get some real grownup advice on the Kruegers and his godfathers, Uncle Siri and Uncle Remmy. He just loved them all so much that he didn't know what to do about it. He had never felt like this about the Dursleys, and he didn't know how to cope with all the new sensations he was feeling. He had noticed that his teacher avoided confusing emotions like love, even though Ms. Smythe gave him ample opportunity, so he should be able to give him an impartial opinion.

It was on the tip of his tongue to spill his guts, until he saw the impatient look on his teacher's face. Then he thought better of it. He had promised Mr. Nathraichean he didn't want anything from him. To say something else now would make him one of those duplicitous people that his teacher hated. He couldn't make this about him now. He had to stick with just getting help for the egg - that was all that mattered.

"Nope, that's it… definitely." Harry said shaking his head. "The only thing I want is for the egg to get well again, and I thought maybe you would know how to help it. You made me all better. See?" Harry unwrapped his wrist and flexed it showing that it was indeed better. "My wrist is all fixed! So maybe you could save the egg too? It's real small… lot's smaller than me, so it should be easier, right?"

"Not so. I am a teacher. Poultry husbandry is not my forte." At his terse quip, Severus saw Harry crumple. First, his shoulders sagged, then his eyes got wet and he started biting his lip to keep from crying. Merlin! Save him from the fragile sensibilities of nine-year-olds! "However, I am willing to evaluate the situation. Hand the abominable thing over to me."

If Severus did not want to think about the possessive stirring he felt in his heart when he saw Harry's face light up at his reluctant concession, he certainly did not want to dwell on his sudden worry that flickered through his mind that he might fail to perform and disappoint him. Happily however, he could explain both of them with a diagnosis of indigestion. The fact was that his quip wasn't an exaggeration. He knew very little about live eggs beyond potion ingredients and he highly doubted he could do anything for this one. It looked beyond help. Besides, he preferred his eggs poached on dry toast.

Other than its unnatural colour, the egg appeared to be a common chicken egg. Severus thought the likelihood of it being viable was remote. If he could convince Potter to leave it in his charge, he could substitute it for one certain to hatch and the boy would never know it wasn't the same one. He didn't even feel a single twinge of guilt as he rapidly made plans to toss it in the nearest trash bin the minute Potter's back was turned.

That was, until Harry piped up with a helpful suggestion of his own.

"Be real careful… okay? Dudley cracked its shell. See? Right there," Harry pointed out some almost imperceptible fissures as he tenderly handed the egg over to his teacher's care. "But it's not ready to hatch yet. That's why we need to put bandages on it."

Great. There was no way that he could replicate the cracks on a new ready-to-hatch egg and keep it viable. Now what was he going to do? Blast it! Now the unrealistic little Hufflepuff-wannabe was gazing at him as if he fully expected to see him work a miracle.

"Let us first see if we can remove some of this stain. If we wrap it in a damp cloth with just a touch of isopropyl alcohol overnight, it may pull some of the dye off." Severus pulled a bottle of the chemical out of his bottom drawer along with a clean handkerchief, then using a dropper to put a scant trace of the liquid in a cup of water, he moistened the cloth and wrapped it around the egg. He did not believe it would help in the least, and may in fact harm it more, but at least Potter would think he tried. Perhaps that would be enough to soften the blow when he had to tell him that the rescue effort was futile.

"Will it work?" Harry asked softy, staring at the egg as if to infuse all his willpower into it.

"I will not give you false hope, it most likely will not."

"But there is a chance… right?" he asked again, never taking his eyes off the egg.

"An infinitesimal one at best."

"But that's more than none at all…right?" Harry pursued stubbornly.

"Yes… barely." Severus conceded. The boy had all the persistence of a gnat, why did he not give it up? The foolhardiness of this asinine Easter egg project should be apparent to any reasonably sane person. Anyone but a…

Severus gave Harry a sharp glance. He saw the unmistakable look of Gryffindor pigheadedness all painted over his face. He really must do better to squash that particular annoying tendency out of him.

"It is best to not get your hopes up over what will undoubtedly be a lost cause."

Harry had gained a vast experience with lost causes while living with the Dursleys, and he was no stranger to the act of pointlessly hoping over them anyway. So what would be the harm in doing a little more?

"But if anyone can do it… I just _know_ you can, after all you _are_ a teacher, and teachers can do ma… er… more things than me." Harry finally tore his eyes away from the egg and looked up at Severus, faith replacing the pigheadedness his teacher had seen there earlier. He remembered how when his mummy was his teacher, she had mended his broken angel when Dudley had smashed it into pieces. The egg was still whole, just a little cracked. Surely, that would be even easier to mend, even without magic.

"I have a mind to admonish you severely for your sycophancy."

"But I don't fancy being sick at all! I like working on stuff with you. It's kind of fun!" Harry protested. In fact, the minute he handed the egg over to his teacher the knot in his stomach had untied quite nicely.

"Cheeky brat." Severus plastered a frown firmly over the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He put the egg back into the nest box and then into the sofa pillow cocoon. Once Harry was satisfied that it was 'tucked in properly', he slid the entire contraption into his drawer for safekeeping just as the rowdy class came back from the Gymnasium.

'_Oh goody_,' he thought, '_now to make class 'fun' for rest of the pint-sized little horrors.'_

As soon as all the girls and boys had all settled in their seats and quieted down, Severus took a deep breath and addressed them. "It has been brought to my attention that the 'parental authority' of one of my pupils has sent… 'A Note'." Here he paused to give each child a personal chastising glare on the off chance that he was erroneous about the source of the complaint being the interfering 'Mummy Krueger'. Not that he doubted his instincts, as they were normally incredibly accurate, but it was always best to cover all the possible alternative bases.

All of the little girls and boys drew in a collective breath and held it, waiting for the other shoe to drop. They all knew how much their teacher abhorred notes. Many of them had to write the line, 'I will not disrespect my teacher by passing notes in class while he is endeavouring to instil knowledge into my dunderhead.' a gazillion times on the board.

After making eye contact with each and every one of the twenty-two suspected whingers (actually twenty-three as he had to glare at Harry twice - the first time the irksome boy mistook his meaning and had the gall to smile instead of looking properly chastised), he then continued. "This… 'Note' requested I consider augmenting your satisfaction of gaining a worthwhile education, with the questionable benefit of superfluous pastimes."

All of the little girls and boys let out a collective sigh of relief. That didn't sound so bad.

Dudley's gang snickered behind their hands. Their teacher certainly did like talking over their heads. Well they had one up on him because this time they knew what he was talking about – the petition! During recess, they had been loitering in the boy's loo next to the office, as it possessed the advantageous feature of a shared heating duct with the principal's office. They had discovered that if they all crowded into the last stall on the left, they could hear what went on in the office without anyone seeing them. It was the opposite of what their parents told them good children should do, but it never failed to provide them a veritable goldmine of blackmail material, a thing that being good never did. Today they overheard the principal practicing dressing down their teacher about the complaint he had received. Then ten minutes later, they saw him returning from visiting their classroom. Now their teacher practically had smoke coming out his ears!

While the rest snickered, Dudley out-and-out smirked. He was terribly pleased with the result of his plot, even though the outcome wasn't quite what he had pictured. He knew the principal was going to demand their teacher make things fun, but he didn't know he was going to make him bring puddings! Dudley had only been listening with half an ear, as he was still hungry. He had taken one look at the very filling and nutritious sandwich that his 'uncles' had packed for him that morning and unwisely swapped it for two doughnuts and half a can of coca-cola. Now his tummy was protesting the empty calories. It was hard to hear clearly over the loud rumbling, but he could have sworn Mr. Nathraichean just mentioned providing them a supper full of pasties! Dudley waved his hand in the air.

"Yes Mister Dursley?"

"I'll take two please!"

"You will take two what?" That was odd. For some reason the teacher didn't seem to be taking orders and the other kids were laughing. Dudley frowned and stuck his chin out.

"Pasties, I want two of 'em, no make that three. I'm hungry."

"No doubt. However, that condition was yours to remedy during the lunch period, and that time is now past."

"But I said please!"

"So I heard. And that matters, why?"

"When someone says please, you're supposed to give them what they want. Besides, you said you were going to bring us a supper full of pasties. I heard you!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Psst! Hey Dudley! He said 'superfluous pastimes' not 'supper full of pasties'!" Piers corrected him in a loud whisper that everyone else could hear. Dudley's embarrassment caused a ripple of giggles that rolled across the classroom to where his cousin sat. Dudley's frown deepened at the smug look on Harry's annoying face.

"Indeed Mister Polkiss I did. I am gratified to discover there is at least one student in my class whom is not in desperate need of visiting an audiologist."

"But if everyone else gets to go on a field trip, I want to go too!" Piers yelled.

"My mistake," Severus said dryly. "Consider my earlier jubilation short lived."

Piers sat back down mollified at what he mistook to be an apology.

"As I was saying before being interrupted, we shall all now participate in a superfluous pastime called a 'game'. And then we will report back to our parental figures that we had 'fun' today, shan't we?" Severus stopped to make eye contact with each and every one of the twenty-two suspected whingers again, leaving an implied threat hanging in the air like wet laundry (actually still twenty-three as this time, he had to glare at Dudley twice - the first time the troublesome boy had the impudence to refuse to nod in agreement).

"Yes, Mr. Nathraichean." Wondering what they were in for, the class chorused their pledge in subdued dismal tones. Most of them were also speculating over the identity of their fellow classmate that got them into this - the few who knew, just hoped the others wouldn't find out. Taking precautions against that happening, the gang wisely added notes of their own to the ones already flying around the classroom, blaming everything on their favourite scapegoat – Harry.

Soon the rest of the children were all sending dark looks his way. Harry did his best to follow Salazar's code and tried to ignore them. It got harder to do when the class started adding spitballs to the dark looks as soon as they found out what their teacher considered a 'fun' game. Mr. Nathraichean's game was to grill them relentlessly in a thinly disguised pop quiz.

The rules of his 'game' were that each child started with twenty points, then for each question, they got wrong he took five away. When a very studious little boy named Timothy who sat in the second seat, third row from the right, asked what they got if they got one right, Severus replied that in that remote possibility he would graciously allow them to keep the points they already had.

For some reason that didn't seem entirely fair. But fairness was forgotten when their teacher then made the offhand remark that he hoped they had spent the previous weekend studying all of their books diligently, as the questions for the game would cover all the lessons they had had for the entire year. He said it would be more exciting that way because they would never know what the next topic might be.

All the little children looked at each other in horror. None of them had studied at all!

Mr. Nathraichean then announced that to give their game that 'festive flair' he was going to put all their names into a box and would draw out one slip to determine who would have the 'fun' of answer the first question. Then he would put the name back in, stir them up again, and redraw for the second question, and so on. Their teacher then upped the stakes by announcing he would name the one child with the most points at the end as the 'winner', and that child would have the honour of working on a class project with an Easter theme. This made all the children excited. Finally, real fun! An Easter project!

They started chattering excitedly, thoughts of glitter and glue in their heads, when their teacher let the other shoe drop. The child with the least points at the end would have to stay after class and write lines. As all the excited chatter died, Mr. Nathraichean did something that struck fear into all their hearts… he smiled - with all of his teeth showing!

Almost every child's name was drawn at least once, sometimes twice or three times. Although the children didn't notice, as soon as they got a question wrong, the teacher didn't draw their name again… that is - except for Dudley.

Dudley didn't know how Harry managed to rig it (but had no doubt that must have), as Dudley's name got drawn no less than ten times, where Harry's didn't get drawn at all! Since Dudley got every question wrong, he ended up with no points at all, while Harry kept all of his and was declared the winner.

When Mr. Nathraichean announced what the prize would be – Harry's heart had jumped into his throat. He knew exactly what the prize his teacher was offering the winner. It was the egg! Although his teacher warned him he would have to involve the entire class if it were to be a 'class project', Harry didn't really believe it would actually happen, except that it couldn't possibly be anything else.

Each time his teacher drew a name Harry prayed it wouldn't be his, because he was panicking over the fate of the precious egg to the point where he could barely think. About every third time after drawing out a slip, the teacher would look at it and then look at him oddly, and he would hold his breath until the name came, so certain it would be his. Then the teacher would call his cousin's name, and then instead of an odd look from Mr. Nathraichean, he got an odd look from Dudley.

Not that Harry intended to call foul or anything (he was elated he won even if it were by default), but the outcome did seem strange. Maybe one of his godfathers would have known how to make the writing change from 'Harry' to 'Dudley' just by thinking about it, but he certainly didn't. Besides, he was the most unlucky person he knew, and he had never won anything in his entire life. So how could it possibly happen that something finally went so surprisingly right, when everything else in his life was going so wrong?


	12. A Patchwork Egg: part 7

Dudley on the other hand did call foul, and used quite a bit of inappropriate language (bringing into question the teacher's heritage) to do it. In reparation for his linguistic indiscretion, he and the entire class were subjected to a long lecture on the various mathematical dynamics of the Laws of Probability and how they applied to the fairness of the teacher's method of drawing names, and how that differentiated from the odds that Dudley would have homework every night for the foreseeable future.

In a voluminous cloud of chalk dust and flying bits, Mr. Nathraichean furiously wrote a long string of complicated mathematical formulas on the board. It was all to demonstrate to the class why the chance of drawing Dudley's name was exactly the same each time it was drawn (one over twenty-two or four point five percent) versus the likelihood of homework (twenty-two to one in favour or one hundred percent). By the time he was done, Harry bet that not even Dudley would care why it happened anymore if the teacher would only stop with the squeaky chalk.

Severus collared Dudley in the hall as he was trying to slip out unnoticed after the final bell rang. Hauling him back into the classroom, Severus unceremoniously deposited him on his bum in front of the blackboard and then handed him a fresh piece of chalk.

"Were you not paying attention?" he asked in no uncertain terms.

Dudley refused to answer. He knew the teacher was angry and he was in for it, but he was hungry and his hunger made him not care a whit. Foolishly he decided to adopt the same belligerent attitude that had served him well with all the previous teachers, sans Auntie Lily and Uncle Remmy that is, but as this teacher wasn't one of 'that lot' he should be easier to manipulate. So he thought…

"Very well, I shall clarify for you once and for all the difference between probability and odds: the probability of you of getting away with acting up in my class is exactly nil. Said probability equating to the number of chances for such an eventuality, divided by the total number of opportunities. Whereas, the odds of you being penalized for attempting to do so, is one hundred percent, those odds being calculated thusly: the number of chances of myself being successful in coercing you to do as I will, in a direct relationship to the number of chances of yourself being successful of doing the opposite. Only an ignoramus would continually bet against the house."

Dudley glared petulantly and thrust out his chin.

"Are you an ignoramus Mister Dursley?"

Dudley balled his fists and started to stomp his feet, but with one long piercing look from the teacher he uncharacteristically froze just as his tantrum was starting to rev up, one foot hovering in the air and his mouth hanging open in a big silent 'O'.

"That's better. Now write 'I will refrain from aiming pot-shots at my teacher.' one hundred times should suffice, and then you may go."

Dudley abruptly turned and began writing on the board with a glazed look in his eyes.

Harry was amazed. He had never seen Dudley stop a tantrum in mid-stream like that before, and he wondered idly if it would give his cousin whip-flash.

"What are you still doing here Mister…_'Krueger'_?"

Harry was startled out of his thoughts when he heard the teacher address him.

"Er… I'm supposed to walk home with my cousin," he explained quickly glancing at the other boy who was hurriedly scrawling illegible sentences crookedly on the board as if possessed. Harry had actually hoped to check on the egg before leaving it for the night. Only Dudley's presence was inconveniently preventing that for the moment. Only Dudley being here did make for a somewhat plausible excuse for hanging around for a while until an opportunity presented itself.

Severus wasn't buying it. Nor was he buying Dudley's repentant act, as he knew the modified _'Confundus'_ charm he had used wasn't that strong. It would only have lasted a minute at best - just long enough to prevent Dursley's caterwauling, and to 'encourage' him to start writing on the board, but not long enough to force him to do it. It also wasn't long enough to alert the Ministry of Magic that someone had used a banned spell, or to allow for tracing back to its origin - if perchance an alert employee should happen to notice. Not that (in Severus' opinion), the Ministry employed any such alert individuals.

In fact, from the angle that Severus was watching, he knew that Dursley was now acting on his own volition. Proof being that after the seventh line what Dudley wrote looked a whole lot more like 'I won't refrain' than 'I will'…. Oh well, small victories are sometimes the best you get. At least this way he could guarantee that the reckless little marksman was writing the lines himself and not having his mummy doing it for him.

Refusing to let his 'good mood' be ruined, Severus decided to continue ignoring the rebellious act in the front of the room for now in favour of passing the time with a little 'Potter Baiting'. It would be a pleasant diversion from watching Dursley mangle the English language with his abominable penmanship, and teach Potter a lesson at the same time - he should not have decided to stay behind uninvited to keep his irksome cousin company.

"Do you suffer from topographagnosia?"

"What?"

"Let me rephrase: Do you lack orientation skills?"

"Huh?"

Dudley snickered in the background.

"Do you get lost easily?" Severus asked patiently for the third time.

"Er… no… it's just that the Krueger's don't like me to be outside by myself." Said out loud like that it made it sound as if they were treating him like a baby.

"Ah… untrustworthy then."

"No! It's just that… it's just…" How was he to explain about the Death Eater threat without explaining about Death Eaters? Uncle Siri had told him that when he didn't know how to answer a question that he liked to confuse the issue by replying with true but irrelevant facts. Maybe that tactic would work for him too. "… they – uh… the Kruegers that is, well they want us… that is Dudley and me to... er… spend more time together."

"To what end?"

"Er… theywantustobecomefriends." Harry said the words as fast as he could to get them out of his mouth before he choked on them.

Dudley outright chortled with glee this time.

"And how is that working out for you?" Severus asked with raised eyebrows.

"Not so good really..." Harry admitted miserably.

"Then be off. I have squandered quite enough time on you for one day and now you are being a nuisance and disturbing Mister Dursley's concentration. That is of no use to me."

Dudley glanced over his shoulder and when he saw his cousin flush red at the teacher's remark, he started laughing uncontrollably.

"Back to work Mister Dursley," Severus snarled, turning Dudley's guffaws into sniggers.

"But – what about…" Harry nodded his head towards the teacher's desk, trying to get his meaning across without mentioning the egg in front of his cousin. He certainly didn't want to remind Dudley of the 'project' or of one more reason for him to be mad. Despite the enjoyment Dudley was having at his expense right now, his cousin would still find a way later to make him pay for today's one-upmanship. However, as Dudley was also in the direction of the head nod – Harry's message was neither loud, nor clear.

"Your escort? I'm afraid you will have to 'make nice' with your cousin on your own time. Do you not have any other 'friends' on whom you can foist your companionship?" Severus asked smoothly, purposely pretending to misunderstand, and then denying to himself that he felt guilty about it when he saw the boy's distress. Once he scraped off all the warm fuzzy feelings that were beginning to grow on his heart like mould, he would feel like his old snarky guilt free self again. He was sure of it.

"... no … I don't." Harry said softly, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Dudley dropped his chalk and grabbed his sides as he burst out laughing. This was just too funny, and well worth the price of admittance. The look on his cousin's freaky face as the teacher put him in his place was priceless!

"And what do you find so amusing Mister Dursley? I fail to see where you have anything to laugh at as you now owe me another one hundred lines."

"But I'm on the last line and my hand hurts!" Dudley whined pitifully.

"No you are not. Your first one hundred is substandard. You misspelt a key word." Severus said critically pointing at the offending word 'won't' with a long finger before wiping through the sentences with the eraser to clear the board. "Start over," he ordered.

"But Harry's right! If I don't walk him home I'll get into trouble too and that's not fair 'cause then they won't give me any dinner and I'm reeeeeally huuuuuungry!" Dudley whined louder, squeezing out a tear. He was not a bit ashamed to use examples of Harry's experiences on Privet Drive as his own when it suited his purpose.

"Too bad." Severus said firmly handing him a fresh piece of chalk.

"No - too late!" Dudley cackled, catching a glimpse of his aunt and uncle out the window.

"Explain yourself Mister Dursley."

Dudley grinned, fake tears drying up as he pointed out the window to the playground. "They're coming! Boy-o-boy Mr. Nathraichean you're in for it now! They look maaaaad!"

"Who is coming? Do you mean Mr. and Mrs. ...'_Krueger'_?" Severus sneered, and then winced when Dudley surprised him by nodding his head in agreement. Blast it all! On one hand, he had had it for today and had no intention of facing down Mr. Neglectful-at-best and Mrs. Nasty-Note-Writer when he was not at his best, therefore, he must stop the Kruegers from coming somehow. Letting Dudley go was an option, but on the other hand, he also did not intend to let Mister Dursley off the hook now that he had him in his clutches. He _must_ have his own way! Anything less was not tolerable … but how?

'_Think Severus! Think! You are not the most experience spy in the whole of Wizardom for naught. To be trapped like this, by a pair of muggle parents no less, is simply not acceptable!' _Severus swiftly came up with a plan to have his peace and Dudley too. "Mister Dursley, you will continue writing - silently, while you Mister…_'Krueger'_ scamper away post haste and intercept your ill-timed wardens before they reach this room."

"But Mr. Nathraichean, I think Mrs. Krueger wants to …" Harry tried to remind him that his mummy still wanted to talk with him, but Severus held up a hand to silence him.

"Ah-ah, Mister…_'Krueger'_ this assignment is not negotiable. The facts are as follows: you insist on an escort to your domicile, and your cousin is not available. Hence, you will convince the approaching pair to perform that task with you, and you alone. You will do so without engaging me - or your otherwise occupied cousin, in the endeavour."

"But Mrs. Krueger _really _wants to talk to you Mr. Nathraichean! I don't think I can stop her from coming here!" Harry didn't like being in this position AT ALL! He couldn't think of anyone more stubborn than his mummy - except for maybe his teacher.

"Failure to complete your mission as assigned will mean forfeiture of 'the project' to Mister Dursley." Satisfied that the threat would achieve the desired results, Severus paused to see if the implication sank in. It did… and fast.

"Noooooo! You can't!" Harry wailed.

"I can, and I will. It is your choice."

Harry didn't have to think twice. Grabbing his book bag, he flew out the room, his feet barely touching the floor.

"My, my, you'd think he was in a hurry to get somewhere." Severus mused out loud and started towards the window to watch Potter do his bidding.

"Yeah… freaks. But what ya gonna do about em'? They're everywhere these days." Dudley agreed wholeheartedly under his breath before returning to writing his sentences. _'Now where was I again? Oh yeah… I will have better aim when taking pot-shots at my teacher.'_

Severus' sharp ears picked up Dudley's remark and it stopped him dead in his tracks. What did the boy mean by that – freaks being everywhere? It was a curious thing to say. The fates being mischievous, his turning around at that very moment caused him to miss Harry's reunion with James and Lily on the playground. In its place, he got the joy of seeing Dudley's latest creative writing attempt. It made him grimace.

In Harry's quest to stop the Kruegers before they made it into the building, he nearly ploughed down his former babysitter, Arabella Figg, in the hallway without even recognizing her. As it was, he left her sitting in a swirl of books and house slippers and wondering how a whirlwind got inside the school when the doors had been closed.

Lily was overjoyed when she saw her little boy rushing to greet them with such enthusiasm. Harry was finally happy to see them! The grey skies that had dampened her mood for much of the day suddenly seemed less gloomy and oppressive, making it possible for her heart to beat again. She halfway wondered what miraculous event had changed his attitude since they parted that morning, but decided that in the long run she didn't want to question it. The last time she had tempted fate like that, it had just put a bigger wedge in their relationship. Whatever happened she was grateful for it as she opened her arms to envelope him in a big hug. Her elation was short lived when he skidded to a breathless stop a few feet in front of her and then politely shook one of her outstretched hands.

So close! When James saw Lily's eyes turn as wet and cloudy as the skies above he had the urge to shake Harry and demand for him to give his mummy a spontaneous hug.

"So where's Dudley?" James asked his voice unnaturally rough.

When Harry saw the disappointed look in his parent's eyes he figured Dudley had been right – they were mad! Experience had taught him that when anyone was mad, it was normally at him. In addition, when someone was mad at him, it always benefitted him to apologize quickly for anything that he could think of that might have possibly caused it.

"I'm sorry, he got into trouble, and it was all my fault…" Harry may have been babbling but he still obviously believed what he was saying, making James and Lily wince over his self-deprecating remark. They both knew Dudley could get himself into trouble just fine, without any help at all from Harry. When incredulous looked replaced the disappointed ones on the Krueger's faces, Harry hurried to explain.

"I… uh... I guess I cheated or something in class today… well I really didn't but Dudley thought I did… anyway he sassed the teacher because of it and now he has to stay after and write lines. I was going to wait for him… you know - because you told me I had to. Only Dudley saw you coming through the window, so Mr. Nathraichean he said to tell you to take me home. Because I'm a nuisance and distracting Dudley, so he had to start all over again. So we better go right now before I make it any worse!"

Harry grabbed James' hand and started pulling him in the opposite direction of the school. As James let himself be led away from the school grounds, he sent Lily a backwards glance as if to ask 'but what do we do about Dudley?' Lily grinned in return and just said one word 'Remus'. James had taken a rare afternoon off work hoping that he and Lily would be able to find a way to have a few moments alone with Harry to break the news about the new baby, but they hadn't expected such a perfect opportunity. Now all they had to do was convince Remus to unbar his door long enough to go get Dudley.

When they got to the flat, Mr. Krueger disappeared downstairs. Except that he was only gone long enough for Harry to stash his book bag and grab a biscuit before he came back up and announced they were taking him out to tell him some news in private. That worried Harry… _immensely_. They had been adamant for weeks that he needed to stay inside, and now they were going out when they didn't need too? What could they want to tell him that they couldn't where they were, and why weren't they bringing Holly?

Each night, after the Kruegers tucked the boys in and turned off the lights, Dudley had made the remark that they all must love him more than Harry because every one of them made a special point of tucking him in several times, but they only tucked Harry in once. Harry had tried to ignore it, but when he realized they were walking in the direction of Number Four Privet Drive, he figured Dudley had been right about that too. His mind went racing – the Dursleys must have returned from their holiday and now the Kruegers were taking him back! Harry tried to hang back, only as they were walking one on either side of him, and both had a firm grasp of one of his hands, they had him trapped.

When he started to drag his feet and refused to walk to his doom, the Kruegers just lifted him off his feet by raising his arms above his head and swinging him between them as if he were an Easter basket. If Harry hadn't been so sick to his stomach with worry, he might have noticed it was fun. It wasn't until they turned into the play park, instead of heading on down Wisteria Drive that Harry realized they weren't going to the Dursleys. At least not yet, he told himself. They were probably just stopping there first to tell him what a bad little boy he was and how he had failed to develop any potential. He didn't even have the egg any longer to prove he was still trying! He supposed he should be grateful that they weren't going to yell at him in front of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Those two didn't need any more reason to think poorly of him.

"Why are we stopping here?" Harry asked fatefully as they put him down, determined to just get it over with.

"Don't you like the park? I thought you did, but we could go somewhere else if you want." Lily offered, troubled that Harry wasn't looking like he wanted to be there. She hoped it was just the venue they chose and not the company.

"I do like the park. It was just that… that I thought maybe Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were back and we were going to Privet Drive." There he said it. Out loud, even.

"No sweetie, they are still on… um… Holiday."

"But they're going to be back later today?" Harry persisted.

"Well about that… you see they need help to come home, but they don't want ours."

"So… Dudley is staying forever?"

"Why don't we all go sit down and talk about it? Your mum needs to get off her feet." James said leading the way over the rain soaked grass to a bench by the swings.

Once settled, with Harry cosily between them, James cast a few spells to keep them dry and to protect them from being noticed or overheard. "Now to answer your question – that is a definite no. Dudley will not be staying forever. I guarantee it. Your aunt and uncle may not want our help getting back from Holiday, but don't you worry – your godfathers and I have come up with a plan and they should be back by this weekend."

"You mean by Easter?"

"Well… we hope so," Lily assured him. She could have kicked herself for not realizing sooner that Harry would have been worried about Petunia and Vernon absence too. After all, they had raised him, so he was bound to have some feelings towards them.

"If we're really lucky, they might be back even sooner!" James added.

Harry didn't think that would be lucky at all.

"But they aren't who we wanted to talk to you about."

"They aren't?"

"No, you see after getting to know you these past three months…" James loped his arm over Harry's shoulder and gave him a conspiratorial wink "…your mum and I decided we kind of liked the thought of having another child around. So we decided to get one."

"You mean Dudley?"

"No, not Dudley - can we just forget about Dudley for a minute?" James was a bit exasperated over his son's one-track mind. "We mean someone like you - only smaller."

"You mean Holly?"

"No, not Holly - Holly is already here. We mean a baby."

"Holly's a baby."

"We mean _another_ baby, one that's ah… not quite born yet."

"You mean the egg?"

"No, but you're getting closer. We mean a real baby, a human one that is. Your mum and I decided to make one." James grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at Lily. Ha! All done, and Lily thought he would blow it.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked curiously. He had always wondered about that. He'd heard kids talking on the playground and there were all sorts of theories. The one they voted had the most credibility (because it was the most boring, and most adult things were boring) had to do with a lady who wanted to be a mother cooking eggs for the man she wanted to be the father, and then the man going up north somewhere on a fishing trip. Only that didn't make sense to Harry. Aunt Petunia never cooked and Uncle Vernon never went on fishing trips, and yet they had Dudley. Maybe they only did that once, and not wanting any more Dudleys, was why Aunt Petunia refused to cook now.

James turned pink. This seemed like such a good idea a minute ago, but now he wasn't sure if he was ready for 'the talk'. Feeling the bench vibrating under him he glanced over to see Lily silently laughing at him. James turned red. Great...

"Why don't you take it from here Lily?"

"No… no…" Lily gasped trying to catch her breath in between bouts of uncontrollable laughter. "You go on, you're doing so well."

"Er… well son… you see that happens when a man… that is when he … uh… that is when a woman… ah… what I'm trying to say is that… Lily… please! Help me out here?"

Lily finally nodded after a few more gasps of laughter, and brushed the tears out of her eyes. Turning to Harry, she said simply "When a man and a woman love each other so much that they have more love than what two bodies can contain, it makes a baby. Your daddy and I have that much love. Do you understand?"

"I think so - you mean you're preggers," he said bluntly.

Harry used the same slang word James had used when Lily told him – the one that Lily had objected to - _strenuously_. Therefore, her shock on hearing it come from Harry made James break out in laughter. Harry wasn't sure why what he said was all that funny.

"I prefer calling it 'with child'," Mrs. Krueger corrected loftily. "But yes your daddy and I are going to have another baby."

"When? This weekend?" He asked tentatively, not wanting them to laugh at him again.

"Oh heavens no," Lily assured him patting her stomach. "I'm not nearly that far along. The baby needs to grow inside me for nine months before it's ready to come out into the world, and it's only been in there about one. It won't come until late this next winter."

"Oh." Harry got quiet. That meant he would probably never see the baby, even if they came to visit at Privet Drive. The Dursleys preferred he stay in his cupboard when they had guests. They were always fretting he would do or say something freaky when other people were about, and said they couldn't trust him to act like a normal person.

Lily looked at her quiet little boy and wondered what was going through his mind. There were so many emotions flashing over his face that she couldn't keep up.

"Aren't you happy for us?" she asked softly giving him a nudge with her knee.

"Er… sure I am." Harry agreed dismally, but inwardly he was anything but happy. "Are you going to have a girl or a boy?" He felt heartsick, but he just had to ask. That was the only thing that might make this all right in his book – if at least they weren't planning on a new baby boy to replace him entirely, as he accidentally overheard them planning to do the week before. A girl would be okay, but a boy? That would be too much to bear.

"We'll be happy with either one." Lily replied confidently.

"I want a boy." James declared vehemently at the same time.

Lily threw the patented Evan's death-ray glare at him over Harry's head.

"Uh... right… _(ahem)_… obviously what I said was wrong son, very…_very_ wrong." James admitted clearing his throat.

"Really? Do you think so?" Lily raised her eyebrows at the understatement.

"Right-o again. What I meant to say Son was _exactly_ what your mum said – we will be _**deliriously**__ happy_ with either. We just want him to be born a healthy happy baby boy. But whether he is a boy or a girl? It doesn't matter to us at all. Not at bit. A boy will do just fine. Right muffin? Ah… honeydew? Er… cupcake? Uh… sweetie-pie?" James cajoled. There was no response whatsoever other than another blinding glare.

While Harry was wondering if Mr. Krueger was calling Mrs. Krueger food names because was he hungry, James was looking hopefully at Lily for approval. He couldn't be sure but he thought she had turned down the wattage on glare just a tad. He could live with that. So – YAY him! He must have finally said something right! Best quit while he was ahead. Grabbing Harry, he let out a joyous whoop as he swung his startled son head first over his shoulder, and hanging onto his legs, galloped for the swings.

Gods it was great to be him!

By the time, that James had finished playing and that Lily managed to pull him away from the playground equipment, it was dusk. He was just like a big kid - running like a maniac from the swings to the jungle gym to the monkey bars to the slide and back again. He even pushed her on the merry-go-round until she was giggling like a nine-year-old herself. They were drenched to the bone from the drizzly rain when they arrived back at the flat, but they didn't care. They were so much in love, and loved so much, that nothing could dampen their celebration.

Too bad they didn't notice Harry hadn't had nearly as much fun as they had.

He pretended well however, smiling when appropriate, and tossing in a token giggle or two while he helped Mr. Krueger to push Mrs. Krueger until she was dizzy. He even outran Mr. Krueger in a foot race, causing Mr. Krueger to chase him until he caught him, and once again toss him head first over his shoulder and run around in circles until he cried 'Bogart'. Nope, he didn't have any fun at all he told himself – it was _all_ play-acting.

Was it any wonder they didn't notice with acting that good?

Lily thought they had made progress showing Harry how very much they loved and wanted him, during their special outing. Watching her two boys as they dangled side-by-side and upside-down by their knees on the monkey bars, she sent a prayer of thanks on the chilly wind to the elusive Mr. Nathraichean. She was eternally grateful to him for giving them this opportunity, even though it was by happenstance.

She was elated when Harry started to come out of his shell as James' playful behaviour drew him out. Several times, she caught a glimpse of Harry shy smile, and his giggle was music to her ears. Lily chuckled to herself as she decided being able to change from a responsible grownup to a childlike persona at a drop of a hat must be just another of her husband's hitherto hidden animagus abilities.

To try and extend that feeling for a while, they made a promise to keep the happy news about the new baby to themselves for a while. She thought maybe sharing a wonderful and special secret with just them, would help Harry feel closer. Except that while they had sworn not to say anything about the baby for a few months, she hadn't expected Harry to say nothing at all to anyone at all once they got home. Nevertheless, all through dinner Harry was his usual quiet melt-into-the-woodwork self, but what was even more unusual was that Dudley was acting the same. That is… until Sirius prodded a sore subject and opened up the floodgates of denial.

"So Dudster – tell me, just what _did_ you do today that ticked off your teacher so much?" Sirius asked waving a fork at the blond boy.

"Why'd you think it was me? Maybe it was him!" Dudley shot back and pointed at Harry.

"Do you actually need a list? Okay then…" Sirius started counting them off on his fingers. "Let's see, one - means, two - motive, three - opportunity, and four - a significant lack of evidence to the contrary. Besides, that was what Harry told James when he…"

Harry sighed and tuned out the conversation, and concentrated on making nice straight lines with the peas on his plate – four up and four across. Then he used celery sticks to connect the dots, and olives and cherry tomatoes for the tic-tac-toe playing pieces. What else anyone said really didn't matter as Uncle Siri had already very considerately reminded Dudley that payback was due and that he was the target. Thanks Uncle Siri.

From her high chair, Holly watched her big brother playing with his food. The intricate vegetable game board he was building fascinated her, and she wanted to play too. Except that all she had on her tray was smashed nanas and some green gunk that smelled funny, nothing fun like 'Ry had at all. She especially liked the little bright red balls. She had a ball that colour in her crib. Those should be hers too! Splat! She patted the nanas with the flat of her hand (just to be sure that there was nothing hiding in it). Plop! The green gunk easily went over the edge of her highchair tray to make room.

'…_coo! ... 'ry? …coo!... ba goo?...' _Holly gurgled prettily to try and get Harry's attention.

"Shut it pipsqueak! I'm talking!" Dudley yelled at her for interrupting and then whirled back to attack Sirius with a verbal assault. "Like I was saying - you're not the boss of me! SO JUST WHO DO **YOU** THINK YOU ARE TRYING TO TELL **ME** WHAT TO DO!"

'…_ga ga! ... coo… PA-FOO!' _Holly answered the question for him. Then reaching over she launched a bright red cherry tomato off from Harry's plate and right into Dudley's open mouth – effectively shutting him up.

Dudley abruptly sat down, and may have choked if Harry hadn't reached over and whacked him neatly on the back without even thinking about it, dislodging the well-aimed veggie missile as if he had had lots of practice doing so. Considering how fast Dudley normally inhaled his food, this was in fact the truth.

"OH MY GODS! What did she say?" At the sound of his name, Sirius' attention had immediately diverted from his petulant charge onto his precocious goddaughter.

'… _PA-FOO!' _

"That's my girl!" Sirius beamed proudly and slapped a highly annoyed James on the back. "Did you hear Prongs? Did you? She said Pa-foo! She said it! She did! Too bad Moony missed it, but she said it twice, maybe she'll say it again… c'mon say Pa-Foo… c'mon…!" While Sirius made a fuss over Holly and her new word, totally ignoring Dudley's attempt to get his attention back by holding his breath, James wandered out of the kitchen alone with a miniature thundercloud floating over his head. It didn't take long until someone else joined him in the living room on the big comfy couch.

"She said Pa-foo. She _**MY**_ baby girl, not his, and yet _**MY**_ daughter said Pa-foo first."

"I heard."

"Why not dada? Huh? Why not? That's even easier if you ask me. Just one 'da' repeated. Merlin, I would have been happy with just a 'da'."

"I'd be happy with just a dad."

"Huh?" James pulled out of his gloomy funk finally to notice who was sitting beside him.

"I want to go home. Nobody here likes me." Dudley announced staring dully into space.

"Uh… that's not true Dudley… er… we all like… well that is, your Aunt Lily _loves_ you very much. I know she does."

"She's the only one. Everybody else keeps picking on me."

James couldn't deny that and not lie. They had been a tad vengeful towards him. He himself hadn't even wanted him here in the first place, and had been ready to kick him out on a daily basis. Only Lily's intervention kept him from doing it.

"You're not saying anything Uncle James. This is when you're supposed to say 'Oh Dudley you poor misunderstood boy. We'll go shopping first thing tomorrow and buy you a boot load full of new toys to make up for it. You can even skip school and we'll make a day of it, and have ices and go to the cinema'."

"But why would I say all that?" James asked slightly amused.

"Because that's what my mum and dad _always_ say."

"They do? _Every_ time?"

"Yup, at least my mum does, dad just pulls out his wallet." Dudley shoulders sagged. "It wasn't what I really wanted though." he sighed with a lingering unmet need in his voice.

James looked at the boy out of the corner of his eye. Dudley wasn't throwing a tantrum, or yelling, or being a smartass. He was just being a very genuine, very lonely, and very sad little boy. It made James realize how low the Marauders had been acting. Even though Dudley may have deserved it for how he had treated Harry in the past – did he really know any better? He was still a child, and adults' ganging up on a child is never fair. James was ashamed to realize he had been just as big a bully to Dudley as Dudley had been to Harry, and he certainly hadn't prevented Sirius from following suit. With sterling examples like that to follow, was it any wonder Dudley was still being a Dudley?

He remembered once his own father visiting him at Hogwarts, after one particularly spectacular prank he and Sirius had pulled off. That time, his father had come in person instead sending his normal howler. Yet he didn't take him to task as he had expected. With disappointment in his eyes, he had only asked James one question. What was it he had done wrong as his father? James had been shocked.

When James claimed he hadn't done anything wrong and that he was a great dad. His father pointed out that all children learn how to behave by the examples set for them by people they looked up to the most. That left only two choices for other people to think, when he pulled stunts like one the one he had: either he had set a bad for his son to follow, or that his son did not look up to and respect him. Then he brokenheartedly asked James which it had been. James never wanted another conversation like that one, and vowed then and there to never let his father down like that again. Sadly, he thought that if his dad were there today he would see that same look now.

"What did you want then, if not a boot load of new toys?" James asked curiously, wondering if he had totally misjudged his nephew.

"Sometimes we went to the shore for a weekend and I'd have them all to myself. But Mum wouldn't let us stay away long enough for a real Holiday because of Harry. Dad told me once if it weren't for him having to come too, he would have taken me on a real camping trip. I would have liked to have gone camping." Dudley said wistfully.

"Surely, Vernon did things other things with you all the time though?"

"Not really, not just us – he didn't want to leave mum to deal with the fr… er… with Harry by herself. Mum takes me places but it just not the same as Dad. Besides, all Mum really likes to do is to go shopping. So we go shopping A LOT."

"Shopping huh?" They both shuddered in sync at the thought of the endless hours of 'poking about at nothing' that some women seemed to like to call 'shopping'. When if you asked any reasonable man they could tell you that the real art in shopping was seeing how fast you could go in, grab what you needed, and get back out.

"Yeah… just shopping, that's really about it. That's all they had time for, what with dealing with the… er… well that's all they had time for." Dudley confirmed sadly.

James took a good long look at his nephew, and suddenly he could see what was going on behind the temper tantrums. Dudley was jealous. Moreover, of all people, Dudley was jealous of Harry. The Dursleys may not have always treated Harry kindly, but any treatment at all meant they were at least paying attention to him - attention that in Dudley's eyes should have rightfully gone to him. Acting up was the only way he got any.

"You're probably happy then that your Aunt Lily and I are back then huh?"

"Doesn't seem to have made any diff'," Dudley shrugged.

"What do you mean – it doesn't make a difference? Of course it does, you don't have to share your parent's attention with your cousin anymore." James pointed out with insight.

"But they left me behind… just like we used to leave him. And I'm stuck here with you."

Although James felt Dudley deserved to know what that felt like, he still felt sorry for the boy who was obviously missing his parents more than he was admitting.

"Even if Vernon doesn't take you places, he does fun things with you at home – right?"

"What do you mean?"

"How about sports? I bet he taught you how to kick a soccer ball."

"Until I kicked it through the picture window." Dudley admitted dully.

"But what about the picture I saw on the mantle? Weren't you in a team suit? "

"Mum had them taken at a picture studio for 'decoration'."

"Okay…. let's see – didn't Vernon teach you how to ride a bike?"

"He tried, but the axel broke before I got very far. Dad said I was too-too p-p-pudgy to ride it." Dudley's lower lip started to quiver. "But mum said that wasn't true. She says it's just that I'm big boned, and the bike was of inferior quality."

"Well okay then… what did Vernon like to do with you as father and son?"

"Watch the telly. I'm really good at watching the telly now. I can watch sixteen hours straight without a break if mum brings me food." Dudley bragged proudly, then deflated when he added the caveat, "It's about the only thing I'm really good at doing. Now I can't even do that 'because Uncle Siri won't let me watch it. Not that you care."

"I'm sure there is more than that that you're good at." James tried to assure him, but for the love of Merlin, he couldn't think of anything to offer.

"Well I am pretty good at Alien Invasion. I even had the highest score of all…"

"See? That's something!"

"… until Uncle Remmy beat me at it. Now I'm just a pudgy lump that nobody likes who's no good at nuthin'."

"That just isn't so… you have a lot of friends who like you Dudley. What was that one little boy's name? Paul? Pete? Phil? Something like that?"

"Piers?"

"That's the one. Isn't he your best friend?"

"He used to be, but Auntie Lily wouldn't let me invite him to sleep over, so he went to stay at Malcolm's house last weekend. Now they're best friends."

James had forgotten how quickly loyalties could change when you were nine. From Dudley's perspective, first his parents deserted him, and now his best friend.

Lily had been right – Dudley's insecurity with his parents being gone was probably the root cause of all the trouble he had been causing since moving in. They hadn't been exactly welcoming either, and even Dudley was bound to eventually notice and react.

"Well maybe we could all do something fun tonight. Just you and me, your Aunt Lily and Harry, we'll do something together as a family. You can pick."

"What about Uncle Remmy?" Dudley looked around to verify the man hadn't snuck into the room without his noticing. "He wasn't at dinner. Is he going to be here too?"

"No… ha-ha…" James chuckled edgily. "He… ah… won't be feeling too well for the next night or two, so he'll be staying downstairs in his own flat."

"That's good. I glad." Dudley replied vehemently.

"I thought you liked Remus."

"He's scary."

"No he's not... that is not most of the time… but what makes you think so?"

"When he met me coming home from school today, he was acting weird."

"Really? Weird huh?"

James worried that maybe he shouldn't have pressed his friend into leaving his flat so close to the full moon. Only what other choice did he have? They had wanted Harry to themselves for a little while, and they couldn't send Sirius. They couldn't risk anyone spotting him in his human form, and Dudley wouldn't have recognized him as Padfoot.

"Yeah _really _weird. Even for your kind. When he came up to me he didn't say 'hallo' or nuthin' – he just looked at me, sniffed the air, and then his ears started twitching."

"Twitching?"

"Yeah – so I said 'Hey, Uncle Remmy – what's wrong with your ears? You have big ears anyway, but today they look about twice the size they normally are. Did you get stung by a bee or sumpthin' and swell all up'?"

"You did, did you? What did he say to that?"

"He just stooped down and got real close until his face was right in mine, and he said really low-like 'That just makes them all the better to hear you with Dudster'."

"That is a little… weird." James agreed.

"That's what I thought. So I asked him why he wanted to hear me better, I talk plenty loud already you know."

"I have noticed that."

"Anyway, he said 'If you try to run off, I'll need to be able to hear you to hunt you down my little morsel'." Being called 'my little morsel' all possessively like that, had really freaked Dudley out, as he thought maybe Uncle Remmy was turning into one of those 'funny uncles' his mum had warned him about.

"Oh my…" James winced. Remus had warned him that he didn't think he should go out as he had just taken his first dose of the new wolfsbane potion and didn't know how he would react to it yet.

"It gave me goosebumps all over, and I wasn't even cold since I wore my red hoodie today. It's rainproof. Mum bought it for me."

"Well, heh-heh… I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

"But he looked at me really… er… strange-like too."

"Strange? How strange?"

"His eyes were really huge, just about poppin' out of his head, and he kept staring at me like... like…" Dudley searched through his memories for something similarly predatory in nature to compare it too "…I know! Just like Dad stares at a steak on the grill!"

"Oh, that kind of strange," James chuckled uneasily. He should have listened to Remus but it seemed like such a good solution at the time. "He does get that look sometimes."

"Well I asked him about it. I said 'My, Uncle Remmy – what big bulgy eyes you have'. And do you know what he said?"

"I'm afraid to ask."

"He said 'All the better to watch your every move with my little appetizer'. It was _really_ creepy how he said it." Dudley shivered and hugged his arms around himself.

"Um… well he isn't really feeling himself right now…"

"Oh he's 'feeling' just fine. I should know."

"What do you mean by that Dudley?" James gave him a sideways look.

"'cause he kept feeling my arm and squeezing it hard. I think I even have bruises…"

"Did you tell him to stop?"

"Yeah – I said 'Quit that Uncle Remmy! You have really big hands! It hurts!'"

"And he did stop… didn't he?" James frowned not liking the implication.

"_Finally! _But it took _for-ev-er_, and then he didn't even apologize!"

"He didn't?"

"No! All he said was that big hands made it all the easier to tenderize me with, and then he smiled at me."

"Smiling is good… I think…" James tried to reassure himself.

"Not the way he did it! It started reeeeeeeealy slow, kind of turning up at the edges, and then spread till it was all over his face and every one of his teeth were showing. They looked _really_ sharp." Dudley exclaimed his eyes growing big and round.

"Er… so what did you do?"

"I told him that Mum takes me to an orthodontist downtown, and that maybe he should go too. Then I told him that his teeth look like they could use a good cleaning, that they looked waaaaaay too big for his mouth, and that maybe the orthodontist could do something about it. File 'em down or sumpthin' - braces maybe." Dudley shrugged.

"Ah… that was very helpful of you." James said choking on a laugh and just imagining Moony's reaction to Dudley's suggestion. Then he sobered up real quick when the thought of Lily's reaction to Dudley's trauma popped into his mind. Although it had actually been Lily's idea to ask Remus to fetch Dudley from school that day, James was sure she would conveniently forget that little fact – and what's more, James also knew he'd let her.

"Well that's what I thought. But Uncle Remmy didn't appreciate it at all."

"He didn't? How do you know?"

"Because he just said that he liked them fine just the way they were, and that he had made them nice and sharp 'specially for me." Dudley shivered at the memory.

"He didn't! ….did he?"

"Yup."

"Then what happened?"

"By that time we were here and Uncle Siri came out and told Uncle Remmy to let go of my arm. Then he said he had a snack ready for him downstairs and to 'go fetch'."

"Well that was good timing, and _very_ nice of Sirius." James said relieved.

"Not really so nice, he didn't make _**me**_ a snack!" Dudley pouted.

'_But he kept you from being one,' _James thought to himself. Out loud, he apologized, tried to reassure Dudley that Remus had just been teasing him, and meant nothing by it. He didn't want him to have nightmares.

"I'm sorry if you got frightened Dudley, I knew Remus wasn't feeling quite his old chipper self today. I shouldn't have asked him to walk you home, but I wanted to make sure you were safe and there wasn't anyone else available. I'm sure in a couple of days he'll be right as rain again, but in the meantime… don't pay any attention if you hear any noises coming from his flat downstairs. He gets kind of… er… 'cranky'… when he's ill."

"What about Uncle Siri and Holly? They're still hanging around. He'll just play a trick on me again, and that baby of yours tried to kill me with a tomato."

"Sirius can babysit Holly while we play a game or something… _not that he needs any more time with my daughter…" _James added under his breath. "What do you say?"

"Does Harry haft to play too?"

"Yes, he does. He's a part of this family," he stressed leaving no room for argument.

"Alright – if he has to, he has to." Dudley sighed resignedly.

"There you go! Now what would you like to do?"

"It's Monday."

"So?"

"Soooooo the Great Humberto is on tonight." Dudley rolled his eyes as if that should have been painfully obvious even to him.

"Let's think of something to do other than watching television."

"Like what else is there to do in this dump?" he asked kicking the beat up coffee table with his foot.

"Er… I don't know," he racked his brain trying to think of something Dudley would enjoy.

He already knew Dudley didn't like board games (Dudley described these as 'bored' games). -or word games (Lily trounced everyone every time without mercy, and cackled most unbecomingly when she did). -or geography games (from his travels Remus knew the names of places that no one else could prove didn't exist – though Sirius claimed he made half of them up). -or charades (after living in a small cramped cell for years, Sirius could contort himself into almost any shape to win this). -or card games (Exploding Snap was the only one they had, and James was the all time undefeated champion). -or reading out loud (although James had to admit he agreed with Dudley on this one – but Harry always seemed to enjoy it). Those were all the choices he could think of. He hadn't realized before how little in way of entertainment they had to offer muggles.

"You don't know about what?" Lily asked coming out of the kitchen carrying a happy Holly with a thoroughly smitten Sirius trailing behind and Harry bringing up the rear.

"What to suggest for a fun family activity tonight." James explained schooching over to make room for her next to him.

"How about reading out loud? I think we read all the books on the shelf at least once, but we could send Sirius to the school library to pick out a new one for us."

Lily's suggestion was met by a trio of resounding 'No's!' each for their own reason. Even Harry who normally enjoyed reading immensely voted against it, remembering how much trouble the last book Uncle Siri 'borrowed' caused. While Lily could understand that reaction from the rest of them, she had thought Harry really enjoyed it and that was why she suggested it first. She was longing to see him smile again as he had that afternoon on the playground, but now at the mere mention of books he looked ill.

"But I thought you liked books sweetie?"

"I do like books Mrs. Krueger, it's not that. I just don't want Uncle Siri to have to go to any bother on my account." Harry did mean both of the things he said - he liked books very much, he found storybooks to be one way to escape his cramped cupboard under the stairs. It hadn't been big enough to do much in it besides read. Only at Privet Drive when he 'borrowed' a book from Dudley - Dudley never noticed or wanted it back, the school librarian was far pickier about that so he REALLY didn't want Uncle Siri to check any more books out the library for him. Once had been quite enough.

"It's no bother at all! I'd be happy too! What'll it be? Humour? Adventure? Mystery?"

'… _scritch scritch ... aaaaooOOOooooOOOOOOOOO…' a mournful howl echoed from the downstairs flat._

"Maybe all three rolled into one like one of those _'Three Investigators'_ books we were reading for story time in class! Remus just now reminded me of a good one. How about the_ 'Mystery of the Screaming Clock'_? It's great fun. We can take turns reading it aloud like a radio show." Lily suggested enthusiastically.

"We've even got the background ambiance for it built in." Sirius chuckled. "Hey James, lend me your wand and I'll just pop over to the school real quick and see if I can find it."

"Er… no thanks Uncle Siri! _Please_ don't do that!" Harry rushed to stop him and put himself between his father and uncle to prevent the transfer.

"Hey kiddo, what's wrong? You're not worried about me are you?" he laughed and tried to reach around Harry to get the wand to no avail. Finally, he stepped back, put his hands on his hips and cocked his head at the boy. "I'm telling you, there is no need to worry. I can take care of myself. Besides, it's late enough that it's highly unlikely anyone will see me."

"Ha-ha-ha! That's not why he doesn't want you to go!" Dudley howled with glee.

"It's not? Why then?"

"Ha-ha-ha! He got into _big _trouble today with _everybody_ in the entire world, and he owes at least a _zillion pounds_ to the liberals 'cause he didn't return a book for a long long long long time and they found out!" Just another choice tidbit he'd picked up eavesdropping on the principal's office through the heating duct in the loo. He hadn't intended to use it so soon, but the look on his cousin's face told him was well worth it.

"Leaving politics out of this - is the rest true Harry?" Lily pursed her lips.

"Er… not exactly… but yeah, I guess so." Harry shot Dudley a dirty look. How did Dudley know what happened?

"As I recall the librarian is very generous and forgiving, but she is very particular about her return policy. You really must try harder to respect her rules."

"Yes Ma'am." Harry agreed hanging his head. Dudley always had to ruin everything! After this afternoon, he was beginning to hope that they might actually like him enough to give him another chance. But what would they think of him now - a common thief!

"What book was it you were enjoying so much that you didn't return it? Maybe we could buy a copy." Lily offered, immediately regretting having to scold him – especially over a book! She loved books too! They had something in common!

"Whoa there Lils – let's make sure we can afford it first! You heard your nephew, there seems to be a matter of a debt of zillion pounds to settle. It will wipe us out financially if we have to fund a new library wing. How about it son? Just how much do you owe?"

"Oh I don't owe anything!" Harry rushed to explain, lest the Kruegers thought he was going to cost them any money on top of causing trouble. "The fine wasn't for me! It was for my teacher Mr. Nathraichean."

"Why would the librarian fine your teacher if you were the one who borrowed the book? As I recall, when I worked there she would have the kids re-shelve books for her during recess if they were tardy returning one."

"Because…" Harry looked sideways at his cousin. Dudley was paying more attention to the conversation than Harry would have liked, but he supposed it didn't matter now – the egg was safely out of Dudley's clutches in the care of Mr. Nathraichean. "…it was the book about how to hatch an egg. You know - the one Uncle Remus and Uncle Siri got for me. But I swear that I didn't know they got it from the lending library! I really wouldn't have kept it that long if I had!"

"I'm sure you wouldn't have, but I'm still curious why the librarian was going to fine your teacher. If she knew you had the book, why did she think he should pay for it in the first place? For that matter, how did she even know you had it? Your godfathers went after the school closed. That is still puzzling me. Did someone see them? Even if they did, I still don't know how they connected them with you. Do you know?"

"… 'cause of Uncle Siri…" Harry mumbled softly. He really didn't want Uncle Siri in trouble anymore than he wanted to see Mr. Nathraichean there. It might mean Uncle Siri would have to go to dinner with Ms. Smythe instead!

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear you." Dudley prodded from the couch with his hand cupped to his ear. He was having a fine time. It was almost as good as watching television! He loved it when Harry was in trouble! Soooooo entertaining!

"Yes speak up son. I couldn't hear you either - besides your mum brings up some good points. We need to know if someone recognized Sirius. The Aurors might be on our doorstep any moment." James seconded, adding to Harry's misery.

"Hey! Enough with this interrogation! I'm here. I'm fine. The last time the bell rang, it was the pizza deliveryman, not the Aurors, not that they would ever stop to ring the bell."

"But think Sirius! Who might be ringing it next time? Can we take the chance?"

"I don't see a problem, and I want to play charades. So why don't we just get on with it?" Sirius' short-term memory was no longer spotty, in fact it was quite sharp now (not that he wouldn't keep using it as a convenient excuse for as long as he could), but it was good enough to recall quite clearly the reason for the misunderstanding over the book. Giving Harry a sharp look, he knew that Harry clearly knew the reason too. Moreover, he could give an educated guess as to why Harry was so reluctant to spill it. His pup was protecting him! First Holly, now Harry. It made him glow with godfatherly pride.

"Why don't we just settle this matter first?" Lily said firmly, making Sirius back off and slink into the corner, taking Holly with him. Turning back to Harry she said, "Now what is this all about? Tell us the whole story."

"Sorry Uncle Siri…"

"No problem pup, you gotta do what you gotta do. I can take it." Sirius looked up from blowing bubbles on Holly tummy and shrugged nonchalantly.

"Okay then… well you see… the reason the librarian was going to fine my teacher was because his name was on the checkout list that he took the book. When the principal's Assistant brought the paper with the fine on it, I knew it wasn't my teacher's signature because his is neat and this one was way too messy like Uncle Siri's is. Anyway, she wanted to make him dinner, but it wasn't really his fault. So... I confessed that I had the book and that my teacher didn't know anything about it. I told them all that I wrote his name down, so that I could take it for longer, but then I forgot to give it back. I didn't tell them about Uncle Siri AT ALL! I promise I didn't!"

"Sirius what did you do! Why did you write down Harry's teacher?" Lily started to shake her finger at him only to have him reply with a huff.

"Well whom else's should I have put? The Minister of Magic I suppose?"

"Why did you put anything is what I want to know." James countered.

"Because Prongs…" he said rolling his eyes as if it were obvious. "There was this great big book sitting on the counter, just begging to be written in. I had to write_ something!_ It wanted me too! It even had a pen chained to it! See! I've got it right here!" Sirius boasted pulling the confiscated pen out with a flourish and brandishing it like a wand.

"Sirius, Sirius, Sirius… seriously what are we going to do with you?"

"Feed me ice cream?"

"We have ice cream?" Dudley perked up hopefully. He had left most of his dinner untouched on his plate when he got into the argument with Sirius earlier. Not that it was a big loss in his book as it was liver and he thought it rather disgusting.

"I brought some strawberry home from work today." When James started to get up from the couch, Lily pulled him back down before he got very far.

"Remus took it downstairs. You know how he likes strawberries."

"All of it?"

"It didn't seem wise to argue."

"I would have argued." Dudley muttered with a scowl.

It was rather distressing how all the puddings seemed to be disappearing downstairs. First the pies, and now the ice cream to go with it. No one had mentioned cakies but they were probably all down there too, along with all the candy since he hadn't been able to find any up here. He always thought Uncle Remmy was a goody-two-shoes freak like the rest of them, but until now, he hadn't pegged him as a piggish prat as well.

"Well I'm not going to, Remus can have it. I'm getting a little pudgy around the centre anyway." The mention of pudge reminded him of the promise he had made to Dudley. "Sirius is right, why don't we just get on with it and play a game?"

"Charades! Holly and I are in! We'll go first!" Sirius called out jumping up with a grin.

Dudley looked at him with a start, and then glared at his Uncle James as if he had betrayed him. If Uncle Siri was staying, then he was going!

"I thought we'd let Dudley decide tonight. And if you don't mind terribly Sirius, maybe tonight we could make it just the two boys and Lily and I for a change." James requested making Dudley's round face light up like a full moon.

"Righty-o Daddy-o! It's not a prob Prongs. Heh-heh! You don't need to knock me over the head with a building - I can take a hint. C'mon snicklefritz let's go upstairs. I think the Great Humberto is on tonight and we can practice you saying Padfoot!"

Both James and Dudley glowered at Sirius' back as he climbed the circular staircase. James was upset that his friend was going to continue to corrupt his baby girl, Dudley upset that Sirius was going up to watch _his _favourite program on _his_ telly without _him_! However, in Dudley's case, as soon as he noticed how jealous his cousin Harry looked, he forgot all about the Great Humberto.

"So have you decided what you would like to do Dudley?" his aunt asked him.

"Uh… no."

"How about a board game? Maybe Scrabble?" Lily suggested.

Dudley yawned to demonstrate just how boring he thought that would be.

"A word game then? How about 'Round Robin'? I start by saying a word, and then you say my word and add one of your own, and then James, and then Harry, and then we go round again. When someone gets the sequence of words wrong, they are out until the next game, and the last one to miss – wins! It's super for building vocabulary!"

"Nah…" Dudley squirmed. Vocabulary? She had to be kidding! That was yuck-o big time. He got enough of teachers trying to cram vocabulary into his brain during school.

"Maybe I'll go watch the telly with Uncle Siri and Holly while Dudley makes up his mind." Harry suggested trying to back out of the room.

"Oh no you don't Prongslet! Get back here!" James pulled Harry back over to the couch and onto his lap so that he couldn't get away. The biggest benefit he could think of, of having a family fun night was that Harry would be there too. So when he felt Harry go stiff in his arms instead of relaxing, he felt even more determined to make him stay and have fun with them whether he wanted to or not.

"We're going to have fun all together, as a family – if it kills us. I know – you have all those activities you planned for this weekend Lily, couldn't we do one of them now instead of waiting?"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Lily clapped her hands delightedly. "And I know just the one! That is… if that's okay with you Dudley. James said it's your pick tonight."

"Uh… will I hafta think much? My brain kind of hurts," he explained scratching his head.

"No Dudley, it's pretty brainless - just fun. I promise." Lily answered him wryly.

"It's not one of those School Arts and Crafts projects is it?" he grilled her. "I _hate_ School Arts and Crafts projects."

"I really don't see what you have against them, but no. It is definitely not a _'School'_ Arts and Crafts project that I had in mind."

"Okay then. I guess it'll be alright." Dudley agreed reluctantly.

"Great!" Lily bounced up and retrieved a bag full of goodies from where she had stashed them in the bedroom, and cleared off the low square coffee table. Once she managed to pull them all off the couch to sit cross-legged around it, she started pulling out supplies.

"Hey! No fair! You said it wasn't gonna be Arts and Crafts!" Dudley wailed at seeing the growing mound of pipe cleaners and construction paper.

"No… I said it wasn't going to be _'School'_ Arts and Crafts, and that is not what we're going to do." Lily assured him with a sly smile and a wink to Harry and James.

"It's not? Are you sure? 'cause it sure looks like Arts and Crafts! I bet there's even glitter in there somewhere…oh yuck! There is! There is! I can see it right there!" Dudley pouted and pointed at the pile.

"Oh its Arts and Crafts all right," Lily laughed infectiously, "just not the 'School' variety. This is 'Family Fun Night' Arts and Crafts!"

Everyone joined in her laughter except for Dudley who scowled and muttered sullenly about there not being a difference, realizing she had fooled him. His aunt was very tricky! That was the same kind of bait and switch tactics his mum liked to use on him to get him to wear tight uncomfortable prissy suits for 'impromptu photo opportunities' as she liked to call them. Why you might ask? It was all to hang up another embarrassing picture of him in some prominent place for his friends to tease him about. His cousin didn't realize how lucky he was that he never had to worry about that.

"Dudley's right…" Harry's quite voice unexpectedly filled up the void left when the laughter subsided.

"What?" Lily stopped in mid-unpacking, certain she couldn't have him heard right.

"What?" Dudley echoed, surprised Harry admitted he was right about anything.

"What?" James added belatedly, simply in reflex to everyone else asking it. He had ceased paying attention and had slipped into his 'relaxed-dad-mode' as soon as Lily had taken charge of the family activity. He cracked open an eye warily in case he had to do something he wouldn't be caught sleeping.

"Glitter is… _an abomination_." Harry repeated after some thought in answer to all three.

"Excuse me – what did you say?" Lily asked in horror. The only thing she was certain of when it came to Harry's heart was that he loved Arts and Crafts!

"An abomination – that's a noun that means 'something that arouses abhorrence'." Harry was proud that he had remembered the descriptive word correctly, and delivered the definition with all the Salazar Slytherin certainty and aplomb he could muster.

Lily pursed her lips, annoyed.

James got annoyed, seeing her annoyed.

Dudley was just all around annoying when he broke up laughing and pointing. "Ha-ha-ha! You should see the look on your face Auntie!"

Harry smiled tentatively from one to another. He was right… wasn't he? Come to think of it, Dudley was right again… Mrs. Krueger now had the same look on her face that Ms. Smythe had had on hers after Mr. Nathraichean said the same thing, and Mr. Krueger had the same look of sour lemons on his that Mr. Nathraichean always had.

"I fail to see what is so wrong with glitter! It's… _its sparkly!_" Lily announced with a huff.

Dudley laughed even harder. "Now you sound just like the principal's assistant! That's what she said too! Ha-ha-ha!"

"Ms. Smythe? Not that I disagree with her, but what does she have to do with this?"

"Mr. Nastyman doesn't like glitter 'cause Ms. Snipe does, 'n Harry doesn't like it either 'cause he's teacher's pet!"

"I am NOT!" Harry denied hotly. He knew darn well Mr. Nathraichean didn't like him any more than he liked any of the other kids. In fact, Mr. Nathraichean didn't like _anyone!_

"Am too!" Dudley teased.

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

"Boys! Stop that!" Lily ordered.

"Yes Ma'am." They both chorused their agreement without meaning a word of it. They continued their fight by mouthing the words at each other instead, until it disintegrated into seeing who could contort their face in the most grotesque manner. Only when James joined in with a face that topped them both, it reduced them both into giggles. Although he hadn't played that particular game in years, making a fool of his self was well worth it for the reactions he got. Besides, it was nice that for a change Padfoot and Moony weren't with them to hog the spotlight.

He could never beat either of them at it, Padfoot was by far the most warped of the trio and contorting his body just came naturally to Remus. They weren't here though, so he was the winner by default and that was what counted! Even better - now that he had officially participated in the 'family fun night' he could relax and go back to not paying attention again with immunity. He was reluctant to admit it, but he had more in common with Dudley than he had imagined. He wasn't all that thrilled with Arts and Crafts, even though he was the one to have suggested it. He meant just for the boys to do – not him!

With her bag of goodies unpacked before her, Lily went into her best engaging teacher mode. "I am sure that your teacher has told you about the origin of many of the Easter traditions already…" she started brightly, but Dudley immediately contradicted her.

"Uh… nope." Dudley responded with Harry shaking his head in agreement.

"He hasn't?" Lily gasped appalled.

"Nope, like I said – he doesn't like glitter."

"But… but glitter is fun for any occasion, not necessarily just Easter!"

"Mr. Nathraichean doesn't like any occasions either. He says they are a botheration to be avoided, and if you can't avoid them then he feels sorry for you." Harry contributed.

"Feels sorry for you? Why?"

"Because it means you're pathetic if you have time to waste on frivolity and foolishness." Harry quoted his teacher.

"Pathetic am I? I'll show him pathetic!" Lily muttered under her breath and then told the boys: "You should always listen to your teacher except on rare occasions, and this is one of those occasions. It is _not_ pathetic to have a little fun. In fact, it is good for your health and I feel sorry for those that think otherwise. In addition, honouring the traditions of your culture is never foolish, and a little frivolity makes life more enjoyable. Just ask your father – he's the king of frivolity. Aren't you James? James? ... _JAMES!" _Lily kicked at his outstretched legs and connected with an exposed ankle.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR!"

"I asked you a question – don't you think a little frivolity makes things more interesting."

"Er… of course it does. Why?"

"The boy's teacher seems to disagree."

"Then the boy's teacher is a prat."

"James!"

"Well if you didn't want my opinion why ask it?"

"You're of no help, just go back to sleep." Lily ordered derogatorily.

"No, no, I'm awake! I am! I promised Dudley we'd do something together as a family." Dudley beamed at his remark, relishing the look of jealously on his cousin's face, and in the fact that his uncle had remembered his promise.

Harry bit back his resentment, and started chanting his mantra over and over in his head: _'I don't care, I'm not attached… I don't care, I'm not attached…'_

James would have preferred to take Lily up on her blessing to veg out on the sofa while the rest of them cut and glued to their hearts content. However, he had made a promise to his nephew and meant to keep it, despite being exhausted. His employer had taken advantage of his two-week notice by assigning him straight double shifts so he would have ample time to have the store room completely cleaned out and reorganized before he left. James would have just used magic and had it done in seconds, but every time he got tempted and started to take out his wand, one of the other employees always wandered down to get something or to see how he was doing.

He had only managed to get this one afternoon off, so he still had four more days of the backbreaking labour to go. He could hardly wait for it to be over so he could work just as hard on what really mattered – becoming Harry's father. James leaned back against the sofa, and his soft snores soon filled the room, both irritating and amusing his wife.

"Pathetic… just pathetic," Lily said softly as she lovingly tossed a throw over him.

Harry didn't understand adults. There was Mrs. Krueger calling Mr. Krueger a name that he knew hurt, at least it always hurt him when the Dursley's called him pathetic - but instead of saying it with the look of disapproval (that by his experience normally accompanied it) she was smiling tenderly down on her husband, and tucking him in gently with the warm fluffy blanket. Her words and her actions seemed so contradictory, how was he to know which one to believe? "I thought you said it was my teacher who was pathetic, because he doesn't like to have fun…"

"No, I just said it was sad that there were people who felt that way. I would never call your teacher pathetic…" …_at least not until I have the pleasure of actually meeting him_… Lily thought to herself. _Which reminds me… _"Harry did you ever have a chance to tell him that I still want to talk with him?"

"Er… y-yes Mrs. K-Krueger Ma'am… y-yes I did." Harry stuttered in admission, startled at first by the seemingly abrupt change in the conversation. Then he realized that he had brought this doom on himself by mentioning his teacher by name.

For days, he had been diligent in avoiding all situations that might inadvertently remind Mrs. Krueger of her request for a parent-teacher conference. He had been hoping that by doing so, she would eventually forget all about it, and then he would never need to tell her what Mr. Nathraichean replied. Now all his hard work was going down the drain for a solitary moment of forgetfulness.

"So?"

"Ma'am?" Harry asked trying to look innocent, but the little circles he was tracing on the tabletop in front of him betrayed his nervousness.

"So what did he say?"

"Do I have to tell you?" Harry asked in a very small voice.

From Harry's response, Lily knew she wasn't going to like what his teacher had to say, not one bit. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at the image of elusive teacher she pictured even now sitting cross-legged on the floor with them. No that seemed off. The imaginary image was sitting much too close to her impressionable little boy, and in far too chummy a pose for someone so conceited. Raising her sight to a spot over Harry's shoulder, the image of the teacher followed and was now sitting primly in the comfy chair behind him. Still too close and she didn't feel like being hospitable. Throwing her glance towards the front door, the image went with it. As soon as she mentally shoved him out the door and slammed it in his smug face, she was calm enough to reply.

"Yes, yes you do."

"Okay… but remember – you're the one making me say it…" Harry warned, then taking a deep breath he plunged in headfirst. "Mr. Nathraichean said to tell you that 'he didn't need any advice on teaching, especially from someone who couldn't handle the job'."

"He said _WHAT_!" Lily fumed.

"He said he didn't need any advice on…"

"I heard you the first time." Lily cut him off before he could parrot the entire slam again.

"Sorry!" Harry apologized but under his breath, he tacked on, "I tried to tell you that you wouldn't like it…"

Lily heard the small retort and immediately regretted being snappy at him. Drat those hormone surges! He was right, she had insisted despite his warning. They had had such a nice afternoon and now he was looking just as closed off as before. What in Merlin's name, could she do to fix it now? A stray tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it off impatiently before Harry could see it.

"Harry, you should never apologize for something that is not your fault."

"I shouldn't?" That surprised Harry at it was in direct contradiction to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's teachings. They had him convinced he needed to apologize if the sun came up too early to suit them.

"That's not to say you shouldn't empathize when the situation calls for it, but apologize? No, absolutely not. It's uncalled for."

"But I didn't mean to upset you so I am sorry. And I'm not sure what 'empathize' means, but if you show me how I'll try to do that too!"

"You're not the one upsetting me sweetie, your teacher is. Besides I'm not actually 'upset' per se - I am 'justifiably incensed' that the principal hired someone to replace your Uncle Remmy who is obviously not suited for teaching impressionable youngsters. As far as empathizing, it just means to understand what the other person is feeling, and seeing the situation from their point of view."

"How do you do that?" Dudley asked curiously.

"You put yourself in their shoes."

"Stink-o-rama! Why would _anyone_ ever do that?" Dudley asked holding his nose.

"You'd be surprised Dudley," Lily told him. "It really helps you to understand your fellow human beings. You should try it someday."

Not understanding that she didn't mean to literally put on somebody else's footwear, Dudley reacted by pulling a face. He could see the toes of Harry's ratty trainers peeking out from under his cousin's crossed legs. No matter what his aunt suggested, there was NO WAY he would actually put his feet in those tape encrusted hand-me-downs now, even if they did use to be his when they were new.

Also being nine, Harry knew exactly what Dudley meant, because he was thinking the same thing. Only he was wondering what it would be like to have brand new never-worn-by-anyone-else shoes as Dudley had. Embarrassed about his own falling-apart shoes, he flushed and straightened out his legs, sticking his feet under the table.

Unfortunately while they were now out of sight, they were also now within range of Dudley's expensive new superstar endorsed grey striped cross-trainers with the glow-in-the-dark laces. Dudley promptly took advantage of the situation and kicked him, following his aunt's example from earlier. Harry wiped the gloating look off Dudley's face when he kicked him back – the duct tape toe of his shoe connecting nice and hard with a soft plump shin.

Missing the spirited exchange between the boys, Lily hummed as she gathered up an odd assortment of items from around the flat: scissors, glue, crayons and a large vase. "Now, who wants to have fun, and who wants to be a stick-in-the-mud like your teacher? Any takers? Hm…?" she asked settling down on the floor between the two boys.

Harry and Dudley warily sized up each other. For once they both felt that they were on the same side, even though they were sitting on opposite sides of the table squabbling. Neither wanted Lily to think them a stick-in-the-mud, so they silently agreed to an uneasy truce (so long as the other stayed on his side of the table), then with plastered on enthusiastic expressions they claimed they were ready for whatever she had planned.

"You know boys… Easter is so much more than just chocolate eggs and bunnies…"

"There's chocolate! Where!" Dudley asked perking up considerably.

"Dudley honey, it's too close to bedtime to be eating sweets," Lily pointed out. "If you're still hungry there is a nice bowl of fruit on the kitchen table, you may help yourself."

When his tummy rumbled at the mere mention of food, Dudley decided anything was better than starving to death and hefted himself off the floor and limped into the kitchen rubbing his shin as he went. Only as he entered, the sight of the bowl of shiny red apples didn't tempt him one iota. Pulling open the door to the icebox he looked in the freezer compartment hopefully for the strawberry ice cream his uncle had mentioned earlier, thinking maybe Uncle Remmy hadn't pilfered it all – but he had.

His disappointed tummy growled loudly in the stillness… and something growled back.

Glancing over his shoulder uneasily, Dudley saw no one else in the room. Thinking he had just imagined it, he started foraging through the rest of the icebox for something sweet. All he found were a few more hard-boiled Easter eggs. These looked like his Cousin Holly's handiwork – as besides the sporadic splotches of colours on the mostly still white shells, there were also little bits of partially eaten cereal stuck to them.

"Yuck!" Dudley thought as he shoved them back in, he wasn't that desperate. Besides, he was leery of Easter eggs since his embarrassing experience that morning. He was still hungry though, and he was positive there had to be _something_ there to eat!

Dragging over a chair to stand on, he started rifling through the pantry until he found a partially eaten box of left over valentine bon bon's high on the top shelf. As he started to reach for it, the small closed space filled with an unearthly howl. Jumping down from the chair he slammed the pantry door behind him, and then felt a little foolish when from the other room all he could hear were the normal sounds of his cousin talking, his aunt laughing, and his uncle snoring. When his tummy rumbled again, hunger overcame his jitters and he went back in and climbed up on the chair. As soon as his fingers touched the heart shaped box, the chair under him started to shake as if from an earthquake, toppling a trio of tins on the shelf, which in turn caught the light from the kitchen and glinted like glowing eyes. Then the howling started up again.

Dudley abandoned all thoughts of a snack and started to run out of the room. Then having second thoughts, he dashed back in, slammed and locked the pantry door, grabbed the eggs out of the icebox, and scooted back into the living room before the eerie sound subsided. Panting heavily he plopped back down as close to his sleeping Uncle James as he could possibly get without actually sitting on his lap. His mum's admonishment to stay away from 'that sort' was all but forgotten in favour of security.

"Oh good you're back, and just in time and look - you brought Easter eggs back with you! How appropriate, Harry and I were just talking about traditional Easter foods." Lily smiled at seeing Dudley cosy up to his snoozing uncle, knowing that a short week ago he wouldn't have even sat on the same couch as one of them.

"You mean like chocolate bunnies and jelly eggs? If you're missing any, it's not my fault. Uncle Remmy probably took them too," Dudley said scornfully from the safety of his cosy spot. He felt much braver now that he was back in the company of the others.

Lily laughed, "No Dudley although some people consider chocolate to be a fifth food groups, I don't – I meant food like roast lamb, fresh spring vegetables, roasted potatoes with horseradish sauce, simnel cakes, and hot cross buns. Did you know that like Morris dancing, that hot cross buns date back to medieval times?"

"Who'd wanna eat anything that old? Be awful stale if you ask me," Dudley scoffed.

"Since when did you care if a sweet was stale?" Harry scoffed in return, raising his eyebrows in shock at the thought of Dudley turning down anything with sugar in it.

"No boy's I meant the tradition – it's thought that the first hot cross buns were baked as an offering to Eostre, the goddess of the spring, and that the four quadrants on the top were meant to represent the four quarters of the moon. In fact speaking of stale baked goods, many superstitious homeowners would tuck away a few of the buns each spring to keep in the house throughout the year to ward off evil spirits. And sailors would even carry them to sea with them, to protect them from being shipwrecked."

"Does it work?" Harry asked curious if the little sweets were what kept Uncle Siri from drowning in the sea. He did say all he had to eat at times in Azkaban was stale bread rolls and thin porridge. Maybe he pocketed a couple of the rolls, and that was what protected him on his long swim.

"Oh it was probably more just the belief that they were protected, that gave them the edge to prevent catastrophe, rather than any mystical power in the buns. But it is nice to think that they could." Lily then started to sing them the old children's rhyme:

_Hot cross buns, hot cross buns  
One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns  
If ye want good luck, give them to your sons  
One a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns_

"I think I will bake a batch for Easter dinner," Lily said thoughtfully. When Dudley's tummy seconded the idea, it made her laugh. "Now, where was I? Oh yes… traditions, there are so many others, let's see… in Scotland, they used to light huge bonfires to celebrate Easter and the coming of spring. In addition, many people get up early and gather together to watch the sunrise on Easter morning. Then they would have Easter parades where they would shed their heavy winter coats and show off their new clothes, in particular the ladies with their fancy bonnets."

The mention of new clothes tugged uncomfortably at Lily's subconscious. In the back of her mind, she knew there was something that she had been meaning to do, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. It really irritated her that she was so forgetful, and she didn't want to give anyone the impression that she didn't care enough to follow through on things. Whenever she mentioned it to James, he would hug her and tell her not to be so hard on her self - and that the doctors said it could take years before her brain totally healed. Her memory problems were part of that. She hoped that whatever it was she was forgetting that it wasn't something important.

When Mrs. Krueger mentioned the Easter parades and new clothes, Harry wondered if he should remind her about his shoes. She had promise to buy him a new pair, ones that actually fit and weren't falling apart. Stealing a glance across the table at Dudley Harry decided against it. Besides Dudley had mentioned his shoes, not a half hour earlier, and Mrs. Krueger hadn't said anything about it. Harry made sure to tuck his ill shod feet under him and out of sight. When he was living with his relatives, he learned that reminding them of anything that would cost them money was a bad idea.

'_Maybe she changed her mind and decided they were too expensive. Aunt Petunia used to tell me that all the time, because she had to save the money for Dudley's things. Mrs. Kruger probably thinks I'm not worth spending any money on if they're just going to get rid of me at the end of the week.' _

While her son's thoughts started to pull him into a dark depressing place, Lily noticed that her nephew had lost all interest in her lesson once she had stopped talking about food. To bring him back around she asked him for the last of the Easter eggs he had brought to snack on. Dudley reluctantly handed it over as there hadn't been that many to start with, and he was still hungry. Besides, he thought maybe if he cooperated now, his aunt would be nice and not make him do crafts later.

"There are many other symbols of the Easter Season – such as these eggs," she said balancing a colourfully decorated egg precariously on top of the craft supplies. "Colouring eggs for Easter dates back to the Middle Ages when King Edward the first had his artisans cover them with gold leaf to present as gifts. Of course, very few could afford to do that, so the tradition of using foils and dyes came about instead, it is also said that it became popular because the bright colours reflected the colours of spring after the cold dreary winter."

"Once giving eggs became fashionable, people did what people normally do – made contests out of them, and so started the traditions of egg rolling, and egg races, and egg hunts. And then of course there is the Easter Bunny… or 'Oschter Haws' as he's called in Germany where the tradition is thought to have started in the fifteen hundreds," she said plopping down a pink stuffed bunny of Holly's next to the egg, and making the pile sway dangerously.

"The hare, not only being a symbol of springtime and the renewal of life, was also a symbol of the moon since ancient times, and the phases of the moon are used to determine the exact date of Easter every year. More importantly, we need the rabbits …because_ someone_ has to hide the eggs! Ha-ha-ha! Right boys? .._. (ahem) … am I right?"_

Lily's attempt at humour fell on deaf ears, as Dudley was leaning against James with a glazed look on his face and a thin stream of drool making a wet spot on his uncle's shirt. Harry wasn't any more attentive. He was staring mesmerized at the Easter egg wobbling on the top of the pile while he wondered how his own egg was fairing in the hands of his teacher and if it would change his fate.

All Lily knew was that Harry was lost once again in his thoughts - somewhere far far away from the little flat. She sighed and plunged on anyway. "But I have to admit, my very favourite Easter symbol is pussy willows…" she lightly twirled a long twig of willow in her hand while she gazed fondly at her husband.

The previous week, before she knew the reason she was feeling so ragged, he had come home late from work covered from head to toe in mud. While she was scolding him for tracking in dirt all over the flat, he stood there ginning at her with an infuriatingly endearing lopsided grin, making her more ticked off by the minute.

When she finally stopped to take a breath he presented the scraggily bare sticks he had been clutching behind his back to her, as if they were diamond incrusted golden branches. To Lily they were - for he had remembered her love of the silky little catkins, something that she hadn't remembered herself until she saw them again. Yet, not only had he recalled the fact that she couldn't help but smile whenever she 'petted' the pussy willows, he had managed to scrounge some from a bog, just to cheer her up.

James had been pretending to sleep to avoid the activity, but was actually watching Lily through his barely open eyelids. Merlin she was breathtaking! When she looked at him like that, words such as loving, compassionate, and beautiful barely did her justice. He had no idea what he had done to be so lucky to have her agree to be his wife, not only once, but twice.

Watching her now, he decided he needed to show her more often and in more ways how very blessed he felt, and knew contributing to her lesson for the boys, instead of sleeping through it, would be a small way to start.

"… all of these things symbolize the thing that is the most wonderful about spring: hope, life and renewal. To me, Easter is more than just one day, it is spring at its best, when almost anything could happen, and things come alive again." At that moment, James cast a charm to prod the dormant twig into bursting out in silver buds in her hands.

"Wow!" Dudley sat up straight, awestruck. He knew that his relatives were wizards but he had never seen their magic up close like this before. Well… not when his mother wasn't covering his eyes, that is.

Although he would never ever admit it out loud, ninety percent of the 'freaky things' that he used to accuse Harry of doing to get him into trouble, he hadn't really done. In fact, his cousin usually wasn't even around. It normally happened on those rare occasions when Dudley's parents actually told him 'no'. Then suddenly his mum's new dress would balloon to the size of a tent, or his dad's new titanium golf clubs would be made of rubber. Dudley couldn't explain it. All he knew was that if someone was going to get into trouble over it… it wasn't going to be him! Besides, what good was having a freaky cousin living under your stairs if not to be a built in scapegoat?

"Brilliant!" Harry breathed, equally entranced by the sight.

He was only slightly more familiar with magic than was Dudley. His parents had only used it sparingly since he came to live there, saying they didn't want to attract undue attention. Harry understood that only too well. It was no different from when he was at the Dursley. If his aunt or uncle ever saw anything even slightly 'peculiar' in nature happen at Number Four it was always blamed on Harry's magic, and that was never a happy thing for Harry.

Lily shot James a small thankful glance for helping her to recapture the boy's flagging attention. "Now another one of my favourite symbols of Easter is the lily… of course it might just be the name! Okay boys, follow me now and do what I do…" Lily instructed as she selected a sheet of white construction paper and put it down on the table with her hand palm down in the centre.

As she started to trace around her hand with a purple crayon, she continued her lecture, this time both the boys listened. "Lilies come in all the colours of the rainbow, but it is normally the white one that people associate with Easter, as it embodies the spiritual essence of pure innocence, hope and life."

By this time both Harry and Dudley had selected their own construction paper and followed Lily's lead by tracing around their outstretched hands, Harry a blue sheet with a green crayon, Dudley a brown one with black. Even James had joined in with a sheet of gold paper and his hand traced in crimson red.

"This is dorky…." Dudley mumbled as his crayon broke under the force of his fat fingers.

"I like to draw." Harry whispered back to him.

"You would – you're a dork." Dudley retorted under his breath.

"Psst… don't tell your godfathers but I like drawing too…" James whispered.

"Then you're both dorks," Dudley sniped, tossing down the broken crayon in frustration.

James felt sympathy for him, because he was at least trying but obviously hadn't ever been taught to treat playthings with care, so he cast a quick _'Reparo Roburus' _mending and strengthening charm on the crayon and held it out to his nephew. "This one will work better for you Dudley. You might like drawing if your crayon stays in one piece." James winked at Harry and grinned at his nephew, "Then we can all be dorks together."

Dudley hesitated then reached out for it gratefully. Normally adults just gave up on him.

"Now we cut around the lines…" Lily decided James was handling the situation nicely, so she continued the demonstration with her own paper before passing the scissors to the left "…and then using the crayon we curl the paper fingers around it."

Soon she had a very silly looking paper hand with waving fingers. While she demonstrated the next step, of rolling the paper palm into a cone shape with the fingers curled outward and gluing it in position, James demonstrated how he could spit on his and then make it stick to his forehead. Lily patiently ignored his antics, as they were keeping both boys entertained and participating.

She concluded her flower assembly demonstration by stapling her 'flower' to a stiff green pipe cleaner. Then, cutting out two leaves from some bright green paper she taped them on the 'stem' she had created, and deposited the finished 'lily' in the vase with a flourish and a 'voilà!'

Harry added his blue lily to the vase and sat back on his heels to admire the bouquet while the others used the stapler and tape to finish theirs. He was quite pleased with the results, and thought it almost as good as the one Mrs. Krueger made. James was sure that his, with its glorious Gryffindor colouring, was the best by far - although his fingers not fitting on the paper when he traced his hand stunted the petals. Still, all in all, he was proud he had finished one - actually one and a half as he had helped Dudley wrestle his back out of the jaws of the stapler when it jammed as he tried to use it. Dudley's turned out a little mangled, but he beamed under his Aunt's praise anyway.

Seeing how happy the flowers made Mrs. Krueger, Harry quickly started another, and Dudley seeing what he was doing grabbed several sheets at one time determined he would not be outdone now that he had the hang of it. Soon they had a flower war going, each trying to see who could make the greatest number of lilies in the shortest amount of time, with the most outlandish colour combinations - many of them with the infamous glitter, in great gluey globs on their petals. The result was a vase overflowing with bizarre looking sparkling lilies. Lily happily declared the bouquet a 'priceless' work of art.

All in all, a successful family fun night in Lily's opinion.

After making sure the boys took their baths (to wash off stray glue splotches), and was tucked in for the night, James went upstairs and retrieved his baby daughter from Sirius' nefarious clutches. He found them sprawled out on the floor of the small flat in front of Dudley's blaring telly. Sirius dead to the world, with Holly tucked under one arm happily gumming away on the crisps that were spilling from a bag Sirius was using as a pillow.

James flipped off the noisy set with an angry twist of knob on the front then mutely withdrew his wand from his holster. With his hand suspended over his unconscious friend, he contemplated what would be the most onerous way to wake him up. He was still miffed that his friend had managed to get both of his children to say 'Padfoot' as their first 'official' word. True, Holly had already said 'Kama' quite a few times (mostly whenever she wanted picked up and her parents weren't doing it), but James felt justified in denying that was an 'official' first word since it wasn't his 'official' knick name.

He scowled down at Sirius. How could he be sleeping so peacefully when he was such a backstabber? He decided that Lily was right in wanting to keep the news of the new baby to themselves for a month or two. Maybe it should be longer than that. Maybe they should wait until the kid turned two, or even three. By that time, he should have been able to hear at least one 'Dada' or even a 'Mama' from its mouth without interference!

James was about to cast a hex to teach him a lesson when Holly distracted him with delighted giggles. Kicking her feet and waving her little arms in his direction, she got enough momentum to roll out from under Sirius' arm onto her tummy. Then playing peek-a-boo with the one hand that hadn't caught under her, she smiled directly at him and very clearly said 'Dada', not once – but twice!

That was all it took to melt he daddy's heart into a puddle of goo.

Scooping her up, he cradled her to his chest, all thoughts of retribution gone as she cooed 'da-da da da da da-da da da da' repeatedly. With tears in his eyes, James swept a pile of newspapers off the ratty settee and sat down to rock her back and forth in his arms, unable to get enough of the sweet baby song. It wasn't until she fell asleep again with a faint 'dada' on her rosebud lips that he was able to tear his eyes away from her, and when he did, he was astounded by what he saw covering every surface of Sirius' flat – hundreds of signs with the word 'Daddy' written on them.

Sirius chose that moment to roll onto his side in his sleep and to start to pat the crushed bag of crisps and mumble to it cajolingly.

"… _c'mon snickfrit you can do it… say 'Daddy' for Padfoot okay?... don't get me kicked out… c'mon snickfrit… 'Daaaaaddddeeeee'... 'Daaaaaddddddeeeeee'" Yawning_ widely Sirius' mumbles soon became undecipherable.

James had to shake his head in wonder. Taking out his wand, instead of hexing Sirius, he levitated his friend into the bedroom. After tucking him in, he carried Holly downstairs and tucked her in as well, before finally sliding into his own bed next to his wife.

"Everybody in bed?"

"Except for Remus… I could hear him prowling around downstairs."

"Is the hatch bolted?"

"Yes, I double checked it."

Lily breathed a sigh of relief as James slid in beside her.

"Hey Rosie… you'll never believe what Sirius was up to tonight…" James started to tell her about what he found with a chuckle.

"That was very sweet of him." Lily agreed. "But he wasn't the only sweet one tonight."

"No?"

"You were too, my love."

"Me? What did I do beside zonk out on you?"

"I thought it was really sweet of you to talk with Dudley for so long tonight after dinner. I could tell it made a big difference in his attitude."

"I hope so…" James said thoughtfully.

"Aha! So you _do _think that he's a good kid after all!" Lily crowed at him.

"Oh I wouldn't go that far. But I would say that he really isn't a _completely_ unredeemable little monster."

"That's all I wanted for you to do Jimmy - to just give him a chance. Thanks honey." Lily said snuggling up to him and using him as her pillow, with one arm flung protectively over him and her head on his chest.

"You're welcome Rosie-posy." James returned kissing the top of her head.

"James… what did you mean this afternoon when you told Harry that Petunia and Vernon will be back before Easter? Do you mean that they finally agreed to let us help them? I thought the last time you went they wouldn't even see you."

"Heh-heh-heh… no they wouldn't. In fact, Vernon tried to convince them to arrest me instead. Made quite a ruckus about it."

"Arrest you! For what?"

"They said he was offering me up as a 'bigger fish' than him, in hopes of a plea agreement. Heh-heh! Get this - supposedly, I am the ringleader of a nefarious gang! Me? How ridiculous is that? I mean… get real Vernon! Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh!"

"James…?"

"Heh-heh-heh! Ha-ha-ha!" James rolled with uncontrollable laughter thinking about his paranoid brother-in-law.

"Jimmy…?"

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… heh-heh… er…yes Lils?"

"… did you forget?"

"Forget what?"

"You are."

"Are what?"

"The ringleader of a nefarious gang."

"I am?"

"Yes dear."

"You think the Marauders are nefarious?" James asked with misplaced pride.

"Terribly so," Lily answered dryly. "And that would make Vernon right."

"Oh… right-o. Well no matter, it's not likely anyone believed him," James shrugged.

"If Vernon keeps it up though, sooner or later, somebody will. He knows far too much about the Wizarding world, and he doesn't exactly have a reason to protect it like we do."

"Then 'da sooner we spring 'dem from 'da big house 'da better." James tried to sound like a hardened thug but just succeeded in making Lily laugh at his cliché imitation.

"You've been watching too much of Dudley's late night television. But get serious - how are you going to do that if they won't be reasonable about accepting our help?"

"I gave up on that tactic entirely, I'm now well into to Plan B – helping them whether they want it or not. I want my flat back and Dursley free." James said decidedly. "Just need to wait a few more days for the full moon to pass so Remus is feeling better."

"So Remus is a part of this 'Plan B' of yours?" Lily knew she would feel better about whatever her husband had planned if that were the case. Remus was always the voice of reason for the Marauders, stopping them from going too far, time after time.

"The biggest!" he assured her. "And actually it's not my plan, its Dudley's."

"Dudley's?"

"In a roundabout way – remember when he was telling us about Vernon and Petunia getting the trust money for Harry?"

"You mean what he called the 'funny money'? How is that going to help? They spent it."

"But that's just it! Don't you see? _They - spent - it_." James said it very slowly as if that would fill in the blanks.

"No, I don't see… _spell – it - out._" Lily shot back at him.

"No need to get huffy woman, I was about to," James placated in return with a jolly chuckle that came from deep within him as if enjoying a private joke. "You see, the boys and I were talking after that, and of course I was going on and on and on about Vernon and how he deserved to be right where he was after he misused all of our money…"

"Of course you were," Lily agreed cynically wondering where James was going with this.

"And Padfoot said that it was just too bad that we couldn't demand it back."

"He would."

"And then Moony asked – why not?"

"Why not? Why not what?"

"Why not demand Vernon and Petunia repay it."

"How in the world does Remus expect them to come up with that amount of money? It was a thousand pounds a month for almost eight years. That would be almost a hundred thousand pounds!"

"Oh no it's _much_ more than that! We figured ninety eight thousand, rounded up to your even hundred thousand, and of course a nice return of interest - so why not double it?"

"Sure why not? But as long as you are asking the impossible, why not just triple it?" Lily asked derisively.

"Don't want to be greedy," James said a bit primly. "Moony thought an average of eight percent with compounding would have doubled by now, so two hundred thousand's fair."

"I ask again – how in the world do you expect to get that kind of money out of Vernon and Petunia? You know they will never give you as much as a handshake, let alone money! It's far too precious to them."

"True," James nodded. "That's where Moony comes in."

"I highly doubt if even Remus can…" Lily slowed to a halt as a possible scenario popped into her head. "No! James you can't intend to sick Remus on them as a werewolf!"

"Ha-ha! No. I thought of that but I didn't think you'd approve, that's why we have to wait until_ after_ the full moon to carry out the big plan." James chuckled at the image in his mind of Vernon chugging away from Moony as fast as his stocky legs could carry him – with money falling out of his pockets and leaving a behind him at every jog.

"So just what is this 'big plan'?" Lily asked with curiosity.

"Well, Moony is going to get all spiffed up in that dark charcoal grey suit that I bought for our wedding…"

"You looked very handsome in that suit... very suave and sophisticated… a girl couldn't very well say no to a man looking like that…"

"Yes I did, and that was the point, and now so will Moony."

"Why does Remus need to look suave and sophisticated?"

"Because he's going to the courthouse posing as a lawyer so he can file a writ to have them released. We need him to be believable so the courts won't look too close."

"Look too close at what?"

"At the documents that Moony is going to give them showing that all the money they have been spending right and left, is really their own hard earned money from Vernon's paycheck that they have already paid all due taxes on, therefore making them innocent."

"But isn't that just going to confirm to the court that they have undeclared income? That's why they are in jail in the first place - being unable to explain where all the money came from to rebuild their house and replace all their things so quickly without insurance. If Remus lies to the courts, it's just going to get them into worse trouble."

"But that's the beauty of it! Everything we're going to tell them will be the truth!"

"How so?"

"Let's see… how to explain? Okay answer me this - Where did all that undisclosed money come from to begin with?"

"From our vault in Gringotts," Lily answered.

"And for what purpose did we arrange to have that money available to them?"

"To take care of Harry."

"And did they?"

"Yes… sort of…" Lily loyally hedged on her sister's behalf.

"Yes? You call what they did 'taking care'?"

"Well no – not really, at least not with the money we gave them."

"Ha-ha! Right, I thought not. Now – as our son's guardians, what were they _supposed_ to do with any of the trust money they _didn't_ spend on him?"

"Let's see… what was it? There was something the guardian was supposed to do, wasn't there?" Lily racked her brain but couldn't quite think of it. "I don't know – what?"

"They were supposed to invest it."

"That's right! That what Sirius said he would do if we tried to foist any money on him to take care of Harry! He told us to keep our money because he wouldn't take a single Knut for the honour of raising his own godson. Then he said if we did it anyway that he'd just turn around and put in back into the bank in Harry's name at a highly advantageous rate. Am I right? I am, aren't I?" Lily pressed back against James' warm body satisfied when it all came flooding back to her. Little by little, the last few holes in her past memory were filling in, now if she could just remember what she was forgetting today…

"Yes! You are absolutely correct my lovely one! Now – knowing that is how any loving godfather would behave, one only has to extrapolate that behaviour and apply the same to an uncle or aunt. The rest is as easy as one, two, three," James started counting off on his fingers. "One - if they didn't spend the money on Harry, than they must have invested it. Two - the only thing of real value they have is Number 4 Privet Drive. Three – then the money must have gone to pay for it, as they hold the deed free and clear."

"So you are saying…?"

"As Harry's guardians, the Dursley's invested his monthly stipend into real estate. Therefore, it wasn't their money that was undisclosed, it was Harry's, and so they weren't responsible for paying taxes on it."

"But doesn't someone? I mean, wouldn't they still be responsible as his guardians?"

"They were the guardians, but they weren't the trustee's – Gringotts was, and Gringotts filed all the proper paperwork with the muggles every year. They are very thorough that way. Bless those little goblins - you can always count on them to cross the 't's and dot the i's." James said with admiration, of both the goblins, and of his own brilliance.

"But I'm still puzzled James… if all that is true, what is it that Remus is going to give the court that you don't want them to look at too closely?"

"Well, we did have to fudge a few muggle documents so the Dursleys would appear to be more stellar on paper than what they are in reality, and that they actually did things the way we are going to tell them that they did."

"Fudge? How did you fudge muggle documents? Won't Vernon and Petunia get upset when they find out?"

"Ha-ha! That's another brilliant thing. You know, that son of theirs is very good at the computer. Did you know that computer they got him with Harry's money has all the bells and whistles on it? It has this one thing called a 'scanner' and another thing called a 'printer'. Dudley can really manipulate a document. Padfoot caught him scanning in his report card and changing the grades. Didn't take much to convince the boy to give us a few computer lessons in exchange for not ratting him out to his aunt…"

Lily made a small exasperated sound.

"Oops! I just did, didn't I? Ha-ha sorry Dudley," James chuckled unapologetically.

"Well get back to that later, right now I want to know how you expect to pass these documents off as real. Vernon will never co-operate with you, even if it is in his and Petunia's best interests. After all, they've been steadfastly refusing our help from the onset, even though they say that their predicament is entirely our fault. You know James… I still don't understand what started it all. Why do you suppose the taxmen were looking into their finances to begin with? It's almost as if some master manipulator planned it all."

"Ha-ha! That's a good one Lils! Who would care enough about your muggle sister and her husband to mastermind a plot with them in the centre?"

"The Marauders for one, at least that's what you've been telling me for the past hour."

"Ah right the plan! Well back to that - remember when we got Vernon to sign the adoption papers?"

"Yes…" Lily said hesitantly, thinking that if James told her that there was anything was wrong with those papers that she was going to have to divorce him on the spot.

"I had him give me an extra signature, in case we missed anything. He was in such a hurry to get rid of us that he didn't notice it was on the bottom of a blank piece of paper. With the help of Dudley's computer and printer, we just filled in the top part, and Voilà!"

"Voilà?"

"Yes - voilà! Because now we now have a nice new document attesting to how the Dursley actually spent their money, and to the investment of their ward. All complete with Vernon's original signature, I might add." James said smugly.

"Sometimes your logic scares me James…"

"But only in a good way right?"

"Oh yes, in a _very_ good way." Lily turned around and planted a kiss on his lips before the two disappeared giggling under the covers. Sleep the farthest thing from their minds.


	13. A Patchwork Egg: part 8

Meanwhile on the other side of the flat, Dudley had been laying wide-awake thinking, as he was unable to sleep. Except that since thinking was an uncomfortable activity for him, he wanted company while he did it, even if the company was his freaky cousin.

"Hey dorkface…"

The soft even breathing of someone sound asleep was the only reply from the other side of the room.

"PSSSTTTT! HEYYYYY DOOOOORRRRRRRKKKKK-FAAAAAAACE!"

… _fling … whomp! ... _

"_Ouch! Hey!"_

Dudley's pillow hit its mark.

…_sigh…_

"**HEY DORKFACE! YOU UP?"**

"Shuddit Dudley."

"Oh! You _are_ awake! I was beginning to wonder."

"Yes, now I am awake. Thank you very much." Harry muttered.

"You're welcome." Dudley returned blithely. "I was just wondering…"

"If I'm awake? I already said I was." Harry answered annoyed.

"No no no no no! That wasn't my question. What I was wondering is why is it you're being such a humongous prat."

"Me? A prat?"

"Yes, YOU dorkface. I just can't figure it out. I mean… look it here… you got all these freaky people around, falling all over you, I'd of thought you'd be happy about it, but noooooo not you. Instead, you just mope around the flat acting all… I dunno… even more freakish than before if that's possible. So how come? Don't you like 'em?"

Harry pulled Dudley's pillow over his head and tried to block out the sound of his cousin's voice droning on, and on, and on…

"I mean I can understand _completely _why they don't like you… I mean – ha-ha! Get real! Who would? But what I don't understand is why you don't like them… so what gives?"

… _deafening silence… _

Harry wondered if Dudley would think he left the room if he held his breath. He tried it.

"HEY DORKFACE! **DID YOU GO BACK TO SLEEP?"**

…_sigh… _It didn't work.

"No I didn't."

"Then answer me. I want to know." Dudley demanded.

"Why? What do you care what I do?" Harry asked a trifle bitterly.

"Oh I don't." Dudley answered truthfully. "It's just buggin' me somethin' awful is all."

"Too bad – so sad. Now let me go to sleep." Harry turned over and squeezed his eyes tightly closed.

"NO! I want you to answer my question!"

'_Stuff it Dud, you can't always have what you want. Someday you're going to learn that, and it might as well be now,' _Harry thought scornfully at his cousin's demanding tone.

…_silence…_

"_DORKFA__**-**__"_

"Alright already! What do you want to know?" Harry finally gave up. He knew Dudley was going to learn that lesson this time either, if ever. It was pointless and he knew it, and he was well aware of just how relentless Dudley could be if he wanted to put forth the effort - and tonight, for some unknown reason, he apparently wanted to.

"Well… don't you like Auntie Lily and Uncle James?" Dudley asked and then never gave Harry a chance to answer while he prattled on, meandering through the sticky thicket of his own thoughts. "I mean… I do… kind of anyway. You know they aren't anything like what Mum used to say they were at all. Are they?"

"I wouldn't know about that. Aunt Petunia never chatted them up much with me over tea and biscuits." Harry inserted dryly.

"Well I do know. Mum said she was 'a hideous wart covered witch' and 'a dratted poor excuse for a sister'. Don't know much about the dratted sister part, so I'd have to go with Mum on that one, but I've looked really close and I haven't seen a single wart."

"Me neither… but she does have all those freckles on her cheeks…"

"But they don't look _that _hideous."

"No - not hideous at all," Harry agreed. In fact, he kind of liked them. He thought they made her look friendly and happy.

"I think she's real pretty, almost as much as my Mum is. Only Auntie Lily doesn't need as much paint as Mum does to get that way. Auntie Lily is even pretty when she first wakes up without any paint on at all. She's kind of nice too - after she's had her morning cuppa that is..." Dudley went on, doing his best to 'sell' his cousin on his new circumstances. He'd been here for over a week and even he knew that something wasn't right between Harry and his parents. What was worse was that they didn't seem to be doing anything about it. Well, if they weren't going to – then it was up to him!

All evening he had been mulling over what Uncle James had said to him, and some of it made sense – oh, not the part about being jealous of his freaky cousin! THAT could NEVER happen! What bag of hooey Uncle James pulled that one out of he'd never know, but the part about him not wanting to share his parents anymore with his cousin, now _that_ made some sense.

He knew that the last thing he wanted was his freaky cousin back at Privet Drive and living under the stairs - even if it was fun to tease him about it. When his parents returned from Holiday, he wanted them to himself for a change. With Harry living with them, he was all his parents ever talked about… 'the boy' this and 'the boy' that… and why can't 'the boy' ever be normal?

The boy! The boy! The boy! Dudley was sick and tired of them harping about 'the boy' knowing they weren't talking about him. Even after Uncle James and Auntie Lily took Harry away, it wasn't a day later that Dudley's house burnt down and he and his parents were once again under the same roof as his cousin, although on different floors. Since his parents blamed Harry for that misfortune as well, it hadn't made a difference – he was _still_ their favourite topic of conversation. For once in his life, Dudley wanted to be 'the boy' his parents focused on, not his cousin Harry. It was his right as an only child, and he thought deserved it. Especially after all he'd had to put up with until now.

"… that is, when she isn't trying to teach me something, or trick me into doing Arts and Crafts. I think I like her much better as an aunt, than I do as a teacher. And Uncle James… well he acts like a big doofus most of the time, but I think that's just because Auntie Lily keeps snogging him so it's probably not his fault."

"What's snogging got to do with it?" Harry asked his curiosity piqued. He had to hand to Dudley in that regard; he did have his sources for intriguing bits of worldly information.

"Its how girls get one up on boys," Dudley informed him wisely. "Gordon told us. He's got an older sis you know, she's eighteen and goes to Stonewall High School. Anyway, Gordon told us that she sucks all the brains out of her boyfriends by snogging them. Leaves them big witless doofuses and then she dumps them and goes off to find a new one to suck on."

"Do you think Mrs. Krueger is going to go off and find a new one too?" Harry asked worriedly, believing the theory not that far out of the realm of possibility after what Uncle Siri told him about Dementors, who did something similar. If she did, Mr. Krueger would be awfully sad… even if he were a doofus.

"Nah… once they marry a doofus they quit looking. Least that's what Gordon says."

"That's good." Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, once they marry them they fill up the hole in their head with girl-cooties so they will do anything they say, like taking out the trash and giving them all their money and saying whatever they cook tastes good. Of course, Auntie Lily isn't half-bad at cookery. Ha-ha! Not like my mum! Now she's real bad…"

Dudley lapsed into silence as he thought about his culinary-challenged absent mum. He really did miss her and wondered why she was taking her sweet time coming home.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Dudley went off topic. His feelings were so confused, that he really didn't know how to answer Dudley's original question. He just wanted to go to sleep and not have to think about it anymore today.

"Hey dorkface…"

… _no answer …_

"HEYYYYY DOOOOORRRRRRRKKKKK-FAAAAAAACE…"

… _still no answer…_

"_**HEY DORKFACE!"**_

Harry sighed. He knew Dudley wasn't going to give up until he responded.

"Pleeeeasssse shuddit!"

"Oh! You _are_ still awake!" Dudley sounded pleased.

"No I'm not. I'm asleep." Harry denied sounding cheesed off.

"Then why do I hear you talking?"

"It's your imagination."

"No it's not. I don't have one."

Harry couldn't argue with that.

"So what do you want now Dudley?"

"You never answered my question."

"I thought you forgot about that."

"Ha-ha! That's something else I learned at the zoo…"

"What's that?"

"Elephants never forget!"

"Comparing yourself to an elephant now are you… _Dud_?" Harry needled using one of Dudley least preferred nicknames to show his irritation.

"Why not? You do it often enough… _Hair_." Dudley retorted, needling Harry in kind with one of his own regretful monikers. "And don't try to deny it, because I've heard you."

Harry bit back a retort of his own. He couldn't argue with that either, and felt a small pang of remorse over the hurt tone in Dudley voice over it. Did it really matter to his cousin what he thought of him?

"I didn't mean anything by it," Harry apologized.

"Sure you did," Dudley answered almost good-naturedly, "just like you mean it when you called me a pig-in-a-wig, a baby whale, and a supersized slug."

"I'm sorry." Harry really hadn't thought he had heard him when he called him those!

"That's okay – I mean… I call you names too. That's what cousins are supposed to do. It's how we acknowledge each other's existence. If we didn't call each other names… why - we'd never talk at all!" Dudley answered with a stroke of insightfulness.

"Oh." Harry hadn't ever thought of it that way.

"Now tell me why you don't like Auntie Lily and Uncle James. It's really starting to hurt their feelings – you not loving them back and all."

"But I do."

"Then why are you being such a stupid prat about it?"

"I'm not!" Harry denied.

"Yes you are. You made Auntie Lily cry tonight. She tried to hide it but I saw her. She thinks you don't want her to be your mum."

Harry didn't answer. The words were stuck in his throat.

"I'm just saying you shouldn't do that to her, because you could do worse if you ask me."

Harry laughed bitterly at that understatement. He agreed, he could do so much worse and he had, much of it due to the person currently denying him sleep.

"I'm not good enough," he finally admitted in a low whisper.

"What was that?"

"You heard me. You wanted to know why and that's why. I'm not good enough for them." Being forced to admit it aloud made Harry feel utterly horrid, and wondering what Dudley might do with the information now that he had it, made him cringe.

"Ha-ha! You've said some pretty stupid stuff before, but that's even stupider than stupid! It's… the stupidest. No… it's stupidaramous. No… it's… I know! It's the stupideriest times twelve! No, it's stupid cubed! One stupid for you and one for each of your stupid godfathers! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Math can come in handy!"

"Cut it out. I get your point."

"Just how good do you think you have to be - to be a freak?"

"Better than what I am apparently."

"But that's just dumb! What makes you think so?" Dudley asked mystified. He thought Harry came by it quite naturally. He was the freakiest kid he knew.

"They told me so."

"They did? Are you sure?" That just didn't make any sense to Dudley at all.

"Yeah… they gave me one last chance and I blew it - big time. When your parents come home, the Krueger's are giving me back to them. Just… just like you said they would." Harry admitted with a small catch in his voice.

Now it was Dudley's turn to feel remorseful. He had come too late. Great - now he was going to be stuck with his freaky cousin living under his stairs forever. That was all he needed –_ not!_

"I'm sorry about that. _Reeeeealy _sorry."

Harry was surprised, Dudley actually sounded like he meant it!

"Thanks, so am I."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Dudley offered uncharacteristically.

"You've already done more than enough…" Harry started in to rag on him about the damage he did to the egg, but bit his tongue deciding there wasn't anything he would gain by doing so. "Besides, Mr. Nathraichean is helping me."

"He is?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why he keeps giving you detention?"

"Uh-huh," Harry admitted reluctantly. He hadn't wanted anyone to know, but now that Dudley had already guessed his secret, the only way to control the damage was to tell him enough of the rest to satisfy his curiosity, but not so much as to give him anything to ridicule him with. It was a fine line to walk. However, from experience he knew that if his cousin found out on his own he'd spread it all over school and put his own spin on it when he did. "He's tutoring me in private."

"Like remedial how-to-be-even-freakier-in-ten-easy-lessons?"

"Something like that."

"That's good."

The boys lapsed into silence, but after thinking about that for a while, Dudley had another question.

"Don't they cost a lot?"

"What?"

"Private lessons. Dad always said private lessons cost an arm and a leg, like a fifty thousand pounds an hour. How 'ya gonna pay for them?"

"Oh…" Harry hadn't really thought about payment and they hadn't discussed it, but he supposed Mr. Nathraichean was probably expecting something in return for his time. "I don't have any money. Do you think he'd like the Easter flowers I made tonight?"

"He doesn't really strike me as the flower kind of guy, unless they're all black and dead looking." Dudley assessed.

"I guess not…"

Quiet descended on the boy's bedroom.

"So are they working?" Dudley finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Are what working?"

"The lessons you dork! What else were we talkin' about?"

Harry sighed. "Not so far."

"That's all right then." Dudley assessed with satisfaction.

"It is?"

"Of course! As long as you have it in writing, if you hire someone to give you lessons, and you don't learn anything, then you don't have to pay for it. That the law. That's how Dad always got out of paying for any of mine." Dudley informed him knowledgeably.

That gave Harry something else over which to think. He didn't have _anything_ in writing, but maybe if he paid his teacher anyway, the lessons would work better?

"Hey Harry…?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have my pillow back?"

… _fling… whack!… _

"_Ouch! ... _Thanks a load."

"You're welcome."

"Hey Harry…?"

"_Now_ what do you want?" Harry asked exasperated.

"When you come back to live with us, it'd be alright with me if you slept in the lower bunk. Every once in a while that is - not all the time," he hurried to qualify. "I won't even punch you while you're in it… probably not anyway... I can't guarantee it though. I do have my reputation to think of. If I do have to punch you, I might not do it so hard."

"Thanks… I think."

"You're welcome. Hey, Harry…?"

"What Dudley?"

"Goodnight."

…complete silence…

"_PSSSSSTTTT! HEY! HARRY!"_

"_**What?**_"

"Aren't you going to say goodnight back?"

…_sigh…_ "Goodnight Dudley."

"Goodnight dorkface." Satisfied he had done all he could, Dudley rolled over and was soon snoring up a storm.

Harry laid wide-awake the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.

Far away in a cramped basement laboratory, Severus Snape was also wide-awake. As soon as he allowed the Dursley boy to leave the classroom, he had retrieved the handkerchief wrapped egg from his bottom desk drawer. Peeling off the handkerchief, he took a closer look at the bedraggled shell with its lovingly placed bandages holding all the cracks together.

He had promised Dumbledore that when Potter wasn't directly under his watchful eye, that he would make certain he was safely imprisoned in the dismal flat with his muggle keepers. For only for a moment he debate between following Dursley home and tending to the egg. He knew what the Headmaster would prefer and he decided Dumbledore could stuff it for once. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Besides, he had a more important promise to keep. The thought gave him pause as he apparated to Spinner's End. Drat it all! The dramatic affairs of young Potter were embroiling him more and more, and he was not that positive that he minded as much as he rightfully should.

Once behind the basement door at Spinner's End, Severus got to work. He first carefully crushed a handful of stinging nettles with a mortar and pestle until he had reduced them to a fine grainy paste. To it, he added lavender infused water, a sprinkling of amla powder, and grated white willow bark. Then he set the concoction simmering slowly over a low flame. When the simmer turned into a low rolling boil, he bypassed the heavily laden shelves stocked with jars, pots, and bottles, all holding a variety of interesting and exotic looking bits of pieces of flora and fauna, and went instead to a small nondescript dark wooden cabinet tucked into the far corner of laboratory. It was in this easily overlooked nook that he kept the most prized of all his magical ingredients.

After his parents passed away, he found himself heir to the Snape 'Estate'. Said estate consisted of a rundown house at the end of a narrow cobblestone street, in an even more run down industrial neighbourhood, and a tidy sum just shy of twenty thousand pounds. Feeling very much the wastrel, Severus bought himself one new set of wizarding robes, black of course. They were not of the very best quality mind you, as his father had driven the penny-pinching gene into his character, but they were the first robes he had ever owned that he hadn't scrounged from the Second-Hand robe shop. The rest of his inheritance, he spent on having the basement remodelled into a dungeon laboratory. It was second only to his domain in the depths of Hogwarts.

Taking a deep breath, the familiar cool musky scent reinvigorated him as he cast the complicated spell to unlock the door. Although completely alone in the house, as he had been for well over a decade, he still muttered the words under his breath as if afraid he would be overheard. When the doors swung open, he removed the small fragment of Graphorn hide held safe within, and then shut them again with resolve.

The hide of the almost extinct Graphorn was reputed to be even stronger than that of dragons, and known for its ability to repel the strongest of spells. Either magical property by itself would have made it widely sought after by wizards the world round, but having both made it priceless. Knowing all that, Severus had to shake his head at what he was about to do with it and why. It was the only one of the rare ingredients from his shopping list, which he had been able to salvage from his regrettable trip to Diagon Alley. Now he was about to sacrifice it on the altar of Potter. Something he would have vowed that he would never do even in his wildest dreams. Nevertheless, there he was – doing it.

Returning to the slowly boiling potion, he dropped in the scrap of hide before he could change his mind. The potion instantly started to glow a rich deep purple, the fragrant steam scenting the air with a heady, almost cloying, bouquet. Severus flicked his wand at the cauldron and the flame under it went out with a puff of smoke and slow hiss.

Sighing heavily, he slumped wearily on a tall stool in front of his workbench and rested his forehead in the cradle of his hands as he leaned his elbows on its smooth surface to wait for the hide to steep thoroughly in the cooling tincture. The vibrations of his movements set the small dye covered egg rolling gently in an arc towards the edge.

"Oh no you don't, you get back here! There will be no self-sacrificing suicide attempts on my watch." Severus scolded the egg as he scooped it up from the brink of destruction and set it back in the centre of the countertop where it was well away from harm's way.

"Now why don't we see how your new shell is coming along? Hm? Hm…!" Severus grimaced to himself. "Look at me. I'm talking to an egg as if it can hear me. Next thing you know I'll be as batty as Dumbledore. Who knows, maybe I already am."

As he started to stretch the paper-thin Graphorn hide over garish coloured shell of the egg, Severus began to hum the Easter tune that he had caught the annoying perky Katie Jones singing in his classroom more than once over the past week.

_Oh! Here comes Peter Cottontail  
hoppin' down the bunny trail…_

Each time he reprimanded her, he had made her hand over one more item from her seemingly endless booty of Easter paraphernalia, in an attempt to teach her to cease and desist being jolly in his presence. In the end, it was futile.

The scene always played out the same way: Katie would shed a vast quantity of tears as her beloved Easter things disappeared into his desk drawer for safekeeping. While he himself, would impart a well-intended lesson on the realities of life. Yet the next day the perpetually happy child would be singing again. He just didn't get it – how could one child embody so much irritating optimism in the face of his most scathing remarks? She was so infectious, that it was all he could do to avoid catching it like the flu.

_... hippity hoppity,  
Easter's on its way …_

Severus continued the painstaking work of encasing the fragile shell with the translucent Graphorn hide. He had to be extremely cautious not to pull too hard or the hide would be torn and rendered useless. While it was soaked with the healing potion, the hide was incredibly delicate and pliable. Then when it dried, it would become clear and harder than iron, yet remain 'breathable' for the egg inside the armour. This would protect the little being from hatching before it's time.

Severus concentrated on smoothing the hide in a thin layer across the curved surface, as the jaunty tune (but with words supplied from his own subconscious), resurfaced.

_Oh! Here comes Albus Dumbledore  
hoppin' through my dungeon door.  
Hippity hop, I may have gone insane…  
'cause I jump at his beck and call  
Not as I could refuse at all  
Wonder if he knows I have a brain?  
Still I try to be extra good  
do the things that he says I should -  
Hoping he'll roll an Easter egg my way!_

"There you go - all better…," he said patting the last edge down, the seam disappearing as it sealed itself, encasing the egg in an invisible shield. Folding his handkerchief into a square cushion Severus set the egg carefully in a warm spot to dry.

"Oh my dear dear boy," clucked an amused and yet slightly apologetic voice from directly behind Severus making him jump as he whirled around to face the unexpected visitor to his lab. "I hope you realize that I do indeed know you have a brain, quite a brilliant one. In fact, I am counting on it. As far as Easter eggs, most regrettably I have none to offer at the moment."

"Who…? Wha…?" The Headmaster! Severus' pallid complexion flushed hot in embarrassment as he realized that his mentor had overheard the stupid ditty. What must he think of him!

"However, seeing as you have one that you seem terribly fond of," Dumbledore said nodding at the drying egg, "perhaps the pizza and butterbeers I come bearing will suffice. Complements of the Hogwart's house elves: one plain cheese with a thin crust."

When Severus failed to respond, and continued to stand there with his heart in his throat staring at him as if he were talking gobbledygook, Albus continued. "The elves tell me that it is your favourite midnight snack, though I do prefer mine a little less bare. I am quite partial to their hand tossed ham and pineapple with fresh tomatoes, or pepperoni with gummy bears - whatever is handy," he clarified.

How in the world did the old wizard know that he was here, and not keeping an eye on Potter, as he should be doing? Had he placed a locator spell on him without him knowing? Severus didn't believe so, only if he had, it would explain a lot. Severus didn't remember ever telling him where he lived, yet there he was, standing in the middle of his basement, looking incongruous in his flamboyant wizarding robes while holding a hot pizza delivery box and a frosty cold six-pack. The Headmaster simply smiled serenely as if he did such things every day of the week.

To cover up his surprise, Severus began to bustle about tidying up his lab. When he had sprung up from his seat, he had toppled the stool, which in turn knocked over several crates of unshelved ingredients in the process. He envied Dumbledore's ability to appear and disappear with such easy and elegance and berated himself under his breath for always being clumsy whenever he was around. It was to combat the awkwardness that he always felt after meeting with him, that he had perfected his 'billowing bat' effect. Impressive as it was, it made little to no effect on the Headmaster. To Severus' frustration, it only seemed to amuse the man further.

"How did you get in?" Severus asked abruptly as he started sweeping the floor, an activity that was just a ploy to discover if the man standing in his centre of his laboratory was real, or just a figment of his imagination. He had been hoping for the later, but when he ran into the apparition with the broom, he had to concede that it was the former.

"Really Severus, aren't you going to invite me to sit down and eat? I came a long way to extend you an apology, and I am quite hungry." Albus neatly didn't answer the question.

"I don't have anything to offer you, my pantry is bare," he answered inhospitably.

"Then isn't it fortuitous that I am providing my own?" Albus said congenially despite his reception, as he put down the box and beers and whipped up a comfy armchair and footstool for himself, which he promptly ensconced his self in with a self-satisfied sigh.

Severus watched him feeling the idiot. The astonishing words that had just fallen from his mentor's lips had made him completely forget about food he'd brought,

An apology? To him? Not that he didn't feel he deserve one, he just never thought he'd get it. He was dumbfounded, the next thing you knew there would be a photo of the Dark Lord wearing a feathered boa and dancing a jig on the front-page of the Prophet.

"Yes an apology," Albus reiterated as if he could read Severus' mind. The fact was that he could read minds. However, in this case he didn't have to, as the Potion Master's normally deadpan face had the question written all over it. It would have been hard to miss. Albus loved it when one of his intricate plans started to come together. "Now come, sit by me Severus. I've missed our little chats at Hogwarts, and I must say your last message was troubling, and I feel I have neglected you for far too long."

"Troubling? Which message was that Headmaster? The one where I said if you did not relieve me of duty immediately that I would go mad and you would be able to find me running starkers down the aisles of the corner market. Or was it the one where I alluded to the fact that your golden boy's keepers were not doing their job adequately?"

"The message about Harry, of course," Albus answered benignly as Severus righted the stool and perched on the edge with his arms crossed in front of him looking rather like a petulant child called to task by a parent.

"Of course that is whom you would care about," Severus said scornfully, wondering why he even questioned the man's motives for showing up.

"My, my… is watching out for him really all that horrendous of a favour to have asked?"

"Favour? A favour is loaning you a book, it is not buying you an entire library."

"Why Severus, I own an extensive library already, so I fail to see the analogy," Albus returned purposely being obtuse. "However, if you desire, I could suggest something for a good read."

"What I desire is to be out of here."

"But it's such a nice laboratory. Why would you want to leave? You have fixed it up until it is quite… ah… 'homey'." Albus searched around before he hit on an adequate word to describe the gloomy stone room. "Have some pizza before it gets cold, it's quite good."

"That's not what I meant." Severus took the offered slice and bit into it as if he were biting the head off from an annoying pest. As he started to chew, he realized that he hadn't had anything to eat since appropriating the apple from Potter at lunchtime.

"Then you really should be more precise in your wording my boy, otherwise how is one to know what you really mean when you leave so much open to interpretation?"

Having his mouth full of oozing hot cheese rendered Severus incapable responding with anything other than a glare, a situation that met with Albus' approval immensely. "Now your message raised a serious concern, and I thought it about time I came in person to discuss it with you."

"Wouldn't you rather just check on him yourself? I'm sure I could arrange for you to be my replacement at the school. I'd be happy to conjure you up a résumé," Severus said popping open a butterbeer to wash down the food and draining it in one long swallow.

"Oh I don't think that is necessary, I am sure I can rely on your astute observations."

"Then why did you bother to come?" he asked popping the top off a second bottle.

"I was concerned."

"Again I ask, then why don't you check on him yourself?"

"Oh it isn't Harry I am concerned about, at least not per se. It is you my dear boy."

"Me?" Surprised, Severus sprayed beer out through his nose. "I thought you didn't care if I ran starkers through the market."

"Starkers? No, no, you are quite right about that, I don't care unless, of course, you were to catch ill. Therefore, if that's what you wish to do my son, I certainly won't stop you. Freedom of expression is a wonderful thing and should not be stifled. No, what I am concerned about is how 'lonely' you sounded. It sent a knife though my heart."

"I sounded 'lonely'?" Severus scoffed. "Why should that raise any concern? I am no more alone than before. It is the life I choose, and I like it that way. I. Am. Happy." He said taking another savage bite of pizza, irritated beyond belief.

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong. I believe you said… and I quote… 'Get me out of here old man, dealing with muggle parents is not what I signed on for' unquote."

"So I did. But how could you possible misconstrue that into an affirmation of loneliness?"

"Because, if you had a family of your own, a stray well-meaning parent or two would not throw you so off balance," Albus explained patiently. This time Severus did choke on his pizza. Had he been talking with Ms. Smythe? Albus got up and dislodged the errant bite with a sound whack on the Potion Master's back.

"Now the only question, as I see it, is how to go about securing one for you at this late date. You have left it a might long, although I suppose if we aren't too picky… "

"Please don't bother on my account," Severus coughed.

"It's no bother at all, my boy! I am here to help," Albus said brightly, the twinkle in his eye more dizzying than a disco ball in a nightclub. "I think the crux of the problem is that you just have not taken the proper time to cultivate a girlfriend, or a boyfriend if that is what you would prefer. To be honest, except for Minerva, Filch, and myself, there really aren't many available adult singles at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, here in Little Whinging there is potential galore! Now where shall we start looking - the school? They do say in the advertising business that when promoting a product for sale that it is 'location, location, location', that is the key to successful marketing campaigns. The same should go for advertising oneself. So, as you are already there – when you are not here or elsewhere – perhaps there is a nice unattached person on staff that would suit you?"

"Sir, you are misconstruing my meaning once again. Let me rephrase, _Do NOT_ bother on my account. I am _NOT_ for sale!"

"Oh heavens I didn't mean it that way. Of course you are not for sale," Albus said stroking his beard and looking thoughtful. "But perhaps we should consider renting…"

"**OUT! My love life or lack thereof is none of your concern!" **Severus roared unable to take any more of the old wizard's not so 'helpful' matchmaking suggestions. He did not intend to listen to what the Headmaster thought he should rent, as he had an inkling it was a flat in Potter's building. Location… location… location…

"Very well my boy, I'll go – I'll go. Just think about what I said if you would. After all I am only concerned and trying to be supportive." Dumbledore didn't even have the grace to look ashamed as he apparated out, empty pizza box in hand, leaving nothing but a swirl of spilt potion ingredients in his dust. The tinkling of the glass vials on his shelves starting the nagging melody tripping again through Severus' mind.

_Oh! There goes Albus Dumbledore  
hoppin' out my dungeon door  
Hippity hop - yes I've gone insane…  
'cause I'm still here in Muggleville  
and it looks like I'll be stuck until  
The Headmaster gets his bloody way!  
_

Severus determinedly shook the bothersome ditty back out of his head and sat down at his worktable. Downing the last butterbeer, he picked up the egg. "What do you think? Is the old man right? Do I need someone in my life? Do I need a… family?" he asked the egg as he gently buffed its new patched together shell.

The egg wisely kept its opinion to itself.

Glowering, Severus put the nonresponsive egg down and started on a jumbo batch of migraine potion. He had a premonition he was going to need it before the week was done. Thanks to Dumbledore's visit, his head was already pounding as if someone was inside it yelling to get out, and it was only Tuesday morning...

He had four more long gruelling days to struggle through until the weekend...

Which he would spend all alone…

No one to come home to…

Or to care if he didn't…

But a blasted egg…

Merlin! He was pathetic!

Severus wondered if Albus had a point. Maybe it would be nice to wake up to the lilting voice of a sweet companion, as he had always imagined Lily's would have greeted him.

"**James Potter! Get your bleeding arse down here right this minute!"**

"Yes my lithesome dove? You beckoned?" Bellowed was more like it, but it wasn't in his best interest to point that out before she had had her morning cuppa. James popped his head out the trap door in the ceiling and looked around the living room. Not spying her in the immediate vicinity he shrugged and went back to look over Sirius' shoulder.

"**James! I said get down here! NOW!"**

"Better go mate. She sounds a bit cheesed off. Q… now where's the darn Q? Oh! There you are you little bugger... why are you way over there? Should be next to the P… stupid muggle inventors don't even know the alphabet, they got them all scrambled up…" Sirius mumbled with his full attention on the keyboard as he hunted and pecked to find the keys to type in 'The Honourable R.J. Wolfe, Esquire' one letter at a time.

"How do we make it again Padfoot?"

"The Dudster said to use that plastic Wormtail thingy to make the little cursed arrow move to the word 'print'." Sirius replied pointing at a spot on the green glowing monitor.

James pulled the wayward mouse back onto the tabletop by its tail then used it to click the cursor on the screen where Sirius was pointing. Soon the little printer clicked, beeped, whirred to life, and started spewing out neatly printed cards.

"**James! You're going to be late for work if you don't get a move on, and don't forget that you promised to drop the boys off at school on your way!"**

"Your woman has a set of lungs on her, doesn't she?"

"Ha-ha! Yeah, that she does. It's one of her many charms," James replied cheekily.

"**James! If you make me come up there, you'll regret it!"**

"Alright! Alright! I'm coming! I'm coming!" James yelled down, then with a few last instructions on the rest of the documents he wanted, and one last admonishment for Sirius not go overboard, he disappeared down the spiral staircase.

"C'mon boys… grab your lunches!" James sang out cheerily as he came into the kitchen. Scooping his giggling baby out of her highchair for a quick tickle, he then pulled his son out from under the kitchen table by the waistband of his jeans, and planted a kiss on his furious wife's cheek (with an apology in his eyes that made her forgive him). After stuffing a banana in his pocket for breakfast, he grabbed his own sack lunch before heading for the front door, leaving the boys scrambling to catch up.

"Wait up Uncle James! My legs aren't that long!" Dudley huffed and puffed trying to keep up with the other two. He hated getting sweaty so early in the morning! Harry heard him and tugged on his dad's sleeve to make him slow down. He was feeling a bit more kindly towards his cousin after Dudley had done something unexpected.

After he had lain awake all night, worrying about everything under the sun, Harry got up at dawn. Dumping all the craft supplies back out on the low coffee table, he sat down cross-legged and flipped through the coloured construction paper. He was dismayed to find no black at all, not even a charcoal grey, or even a dull brown. Dudley had used them all up the night before. The only colours left were sunshine yellow, baby pink, light lavender, and sky blue. Harry sighed audibly, picked up the scissors, and diligently set out to make more of the handprint Easter lilies for his teacher.

Whenever he needed something growing up his Aunt Petunia had always told him to 'do with what you have, or do without, don't come snivelling to me for every tit and tat.' So trained, he made do with what was there. When he finally ran out of paper, he sat back on his heels and looked at what he had created. His book bag stuffed with the cheery little flowers was downright depressing.

Harry knew Mr. Nathraichean wouldn't like them. Dudley was right. Their teacher wasn't a flowery kind of guy. Especially these – they were far too cheery. Harry felt like crying. Only the followers of Salazar didn't cry. Then again, they didn't make happy little posies either. He kicked his book bag in disgust as Dudley came out of the bedroom yawning.

"What gives Cuz?"

"I'm a dork," he said in frustration.

"You're just realizing that?" Dudley snorted unimpressed. "I told you that last night. Didn't you listen to me? It would have saved you a boatload of trouble."

"Okay I am a super dork then."

"Ha-ha! I won't disagree, but why?"

"I made Mr. Nathraichean some of those Easter lilies, like we were talking… but…" Harry paused, he really wasn't sure if he trusted Dudley enough to tell him, he'd just laugh.

"Okay I'll bite, but what?"

"Nothing, forget it." Harry said giving his bag another kick and then watched in horror as it slowly topple over onto its side, a happy looking pink lily tumbling out at Dudley feet.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Pink? Really? For Mr. Nastyman? Have you gone completely mental? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" Harry had been right. Dudley couldn't stop laughing.

"I don't have it in writing, so I thought I'd… but there wasn't any black paper left..." Harry explained dismally wrapping his arms around his legs and putting his chin on his knees.

"So what? Don't be a baby, do something about it!" Dudley goaded him.

"Like what? It's too late to make more, even if I could find the right paper somewhere."

"Geeze! Do I haft to do everything around here? Like here, take these. They're already done." Dudley said plucking the dead looking flowers that he had made out of his Aunt's vase, plus a few more for good measure, and thrust them at his cousin.

"But you were going to give those to your mum." Harry returned, refusing to touch them, lest it be a trick. He didn't exactly trust this new side of Dudley, because the Dudley he knew never did anything unless there was an immediate reward in it for him.

"Nah… she wouldn't have liked them anyway. Mum prefers her flowers from the Shoppe, I just made 'em to make Auntie Lily happy. So you gonna take 'em or what?" Half embarrassed, half impatient, Dudley waved them in Harry's face.

"Thanks. It's really very nice of you," Harry said gratefully adding the dismal looking buds to the bouquet in his bag and closing it just as his mum came in carrying Holly.

"What are you boys up to so early in the morning?" Lily asked coming upon the scene, not that she was trying to pry, but she was suspicious anytime she walked into a room and saw her nephew looking smug, and her son looking apologetic.

At the question, surprise replaced the looks on their faces, then embarrassment, and then guilt, in that order. Except that neither of them answered her, all she got was an identical pair of innocent shrugs.

All through breakfast, the boys kept sharing secret looks with each other. Lily was glad they seemed to be getting along better but it was making her cranky that she didn't know the reason for it, and being cranky made her remember one of the forgotten things that had been nagging at her subconscious.

"Harry, I've been thinking about what your teacher said…"

Harry sucked in his breath sharply and held it. Oh no! Of all the things that Mrs. Krueger kept forgetting, why couldn't his teacher be one of them?

Dudley watched the exchange with interest as he poked at the raisins in his porridge. He had discovered that if he put enough brown sugar on it, and if he squished his eyes up into little slits, he could almost pretend it was his favourite cereal Choco-Chunks. Almost that is, not quite. When he took a bite, it still tasted like yucky porridge.

One other thing Dudley discovered was that when he squished his eyes up into little slits he could focus on one thing at a time better. When he focused on his aunt, Dudley could tell she was cranky without even listening to her rant. He also noticed she had left her cup of tea untouched, making her even crankier. He kindly pushed it closer to her, but she was too busy working herself up into a right bother to notice his gesture. She was stomping around the kitchen making his cousin and uncle sack lunches (he cringed when he saw the one Uncle Siri had already made him sitting on the counter), and yelling at his uncle (who wasn't even in the room), and stomping making thing fly every which way (which was probably why his Uncle James was making himself scarce).

Ha-ha! If he'd know how easy peasy it was, to make her this angry with his teacher, he would have done it himself long ago, instead of relying on his gang's intricate plot. He chuckled to himself, his teacher had better watch out. Having Auntie Lily mad at you was not a good thing. Hey! Maybe if he played his cards right - he could get his aunt to make his teacher give him back his Game Boy!

While he waited for an opportunity to ask his aunt if she would recover his toy for him, Dudley's attention started to wander because seeing his aunt act just like his mum (when she wanted to spend money and his dad said no), was making Dudley a little homesick for his own parents.

His cousin Harry was staring at his aunt, utterly fascinated as she harangued the invisible Mr. Nathraichean. The baby… he couldn't remember her name but decided it didn't matter anyway since she was a stinkpot… was gumming her Oatie-O's and then spitting them out, the mess dribbling down her chin and onto the tray attached to the front of her highchair. Then she would coo and wiggle trying to get his aunt's attention as if she was cute or something. How gross! As Dudley looked away, a stream of milk and porridge dripped off his own chin and down his shirt. He wiped it off on his sleeve.

With Uncle Remmy holed up downstairs with all the good food and the door locked and barred, and Uncle Siri and Uncle James holed up upstairs monopolizing his computer that only left the freak as a source for his breakfast entertainment. Normally Dudley wouldn't look at Harry unless he couldn't help it, but after their long talk, he was a little curious about some of the things his cousin told him. Last night in the dark, they made sense, but now that it was daylight, he had more questions than answers.

He didn't like looking at Harry, because had always felt a little uncomfortable seeing him in his old hand-me-downs, not because he thought Harry deserved loads of new clothes, but because they were _his_ old clothes. His friends always recognized his old shirts and jeans hanging on his cousin's thin frame and would laugh at how baggy they were and poke fun. He laughed too, but only to cover up his embarrassment. Knowing that the same items on him were so tight they were painful, made him feel fat. He wasn't fat! He wasn't! He was big-boned. His mum said so.

Taking a quick peek at his cousin, he was relieved to see that for the most part his aunt and uncle had replaced the old castoffs clothes his cousin had always worn. Only in Dudley's opinion, they had stopped shopping far too soon.

For one thing, his cousin seemed to have only one jumper, at least he had recycled the same green one every day for over a week. Secondly, when Dudley had moved in, it only took one measly box to empty all of his cousin's clothes out of the dresser so he could take it over. Then there was his hair. This morning one side was stuck flat to his head and the other side was sticking out in spikes. Dudley's mum had tried several times to make his cousin's hair behave, but she never took him to a proper barber as they did him, she just whacked it off herself, and the next morning it would be back even messier than before. Maybe if he had a real haircut, it wouldn't look like that.

Lastly, there were his shoes - or rather, Dudley's old trainers. When Dudley's mum had given them to Harry, Dudley had already worn holes in the toes and the rubber soles had been falling off. Nevertheless, his mum had glued them back together, plugged the holes with wads of paper and pronounced them 'good as new'. Dudley didn't understand why his aunt and uncle hadn't gotten his cousin some new ones. It's not like they had to go to London and have them custom made to fit his cousin's feet as his parents did for him (his were extra wide - his cousin's were skinny). Really, anything would do for him.

All of this physical evidence of gave credence in Dudley's mind to what Harry had told him the night before, about them giving him back to Dudley's parents when they came home from holiday. Why throw good money after bad and spend it on someone you weren't going to keep? He knew he wouldn't.

Scrutinizing his pitiable cousin now, he saw him go pale and look as if he were about to pass out, or sick up, or both. His Auntie Lily's voice penetrated his thoughts as he sat there wondering if it was bad porridge that was causing his cousin's curious reaction, and whether or not his was bad too, after all how can you tell when something tastes like that? Then he realized the reason when he heard her talking about wanting the dreaded Parent-Teacher meeting again. Didn't Auntie Lily know that nothing good could come from mixing parents with teachers?

Dudley almost felt sorry for him. Almost that is, not quite. The way Dudley saw it, it was the same as his disguised porridge - they could dress the freak up in new clothes, but that didn't mean he was any less freaky. He didn't blame Harry at all when he literally slide under the table and hid… but sympathy didn't stop him from snickering away uncontrollably at his cousin's expense. Dudley did so enjoy mealtime at the Potters. It was much more entertaining than at home.

Considering the number of dirty looks Harry shot him from under the table (between the time he hid there from his mum and when his dad unceremoniously hauled him out), Dudley was surprised when Harry actually asked his dad slow down enough that he could catch up to them on the way to school. Then after Uncle James dropped them at the corner of the school grounds, Harry had even started to walk into the building with him. Just as if they were almost friends! What was even more surprising was that Dudley let him. All in all, what had started out as a difficult morning was starting to look up for Harry.

That is… right up to the point where Dudley's gang came into sight, loitering on the steps in front of the school and saw them. Of course, that made Dudley obliged to punch Harry in the arm real hard before pushing him into a mud puddle for having been too close. Then he and his gang chased Harry the rest of the way into the classroom whereupon Harry had the nerve to sit there dripping and rubbing his arm, as if he had actually gotten hurt or something! Dudley didn't appreciate the melodramatics. It wasn't even one of his hardest punches. But despite it all, Dudley was in a very good mood that morning.

That is… right up to the point where Mr. Nathraichean came swooping in through the classroom doorway like a bat out of Hello-and-Bob's-Your-Uncle. (Dudley's mum said that was the polite version of where Dudley's dad said all freaky people came from. Dudley liked his Dad's version better, it was much shorter and to the point. Except that the last time Dudley used it, his mum started to wash his mouth out with a bar of soap - until he lied and convinced her that Harry made him say it. Then Harry got the soap.)

Mr. Nathraichean was in a right foul mood, even crankier than Auntie Lily had been, and Dudley had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't going to bode well for him. If he had to guess, he would have said that they were both hormonal. When he bluntly asked Auntie Lily if she was at breakfast, she had just told him to mind his P's and Q's. He hated spelling! Dudley saw absolutely no use for doing it the old-fashioned way when that was what spell-checker did. Teachers _definitely_ needed to get with the times.

"**WHAM!"** Severus slammed down a ruler on his desktop making all the little girls and boys jump in their seats.

"Mister Dursley! Pay AT-TEN-TION! I asked you to spell the word 'maniacal'. Must I repeat its definition for you to complete the assigned task, or are you alert enough now to arrive there of your own accord?"

Dudley looked up from where he had been doodling rude pictures of his teacher in the margin of his notebook, to see the subject of his artwork sneering down his long hooked nose at him with mean squinty eyes. He returned the look, making his teacher's right eyebrow twitch, and pondered the question (for Dudley that was all of a nanosecond).

"No thanks, the visual is quite enough," Dudley replied with an impertinent smirk.

The other twenty little boys and girls (one little girl named Hannah was home in bed with the mumps) drew their breath in unison and held it, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

They didn't have to hold it long.

"**TO THE CORNER MISTER DURSLEY - MARCH!" **

"Righty-o Daddy-o!" Dudley snickered as he lumbered in a very un-marching style to the corner and plopped down heavily onto the stool there. He was proud of having neatly avoided yet another opportunity to learn. When his impudent remarks had the dual benefit of sending his classmates into giggle fits at the enraged look on their dour teacher's face, his smirk turned into and out and out self-satisfied grin. He was the centre of attention, exactly where he liked to be. It was so good to be him!

Severus narrowed his eyes at Dudley. The cheeky phrase irked him to the core. He remembered distinctly that the last time he had heard it - it was coming out of the grinning mouth of one Sirius Black followed by: _'Heh-heh! You're a wuss Snivellus! Do you really think I'd ever say you were right?'_ Now in a very déjà vu moment it was spewing forth from the grinning mouth of yet another overly privileged, overly spoilt, and overly sanctimonious brat. In his opinion, those who drown themselves in the sea trying to escape from Azkaban should have the good graces to stay dead, they should not resurrect themselves into the bodies of stupid little muggle boys just to plague him.

"The rest of you - OUT!"

Before the class had gotten even halfway out of their seats, Dudley realized what the ramifications of his rash actions would be to himself. "That's not fair! They can't go yet!" he bellowed like a stuck pig. "The bell hasn't rung for recess! If they go now I'll miss it!"

The little boys all started booing Dudley, and the little girls all stuck their tongues out at him. Harry kept silent and tried not to draw any attention to himself, he was just happy the class wasn't upset at him for a change and was hoping Dudley wasn't going to say something to change that somehow.

Severus however, thought it entirely fair. "You stay where you are Mister Dursley, and it would be in your best interests to remain silent from here on out. As for the rest of you – you needn't worry. I assure you, the bell has tolled somewhere in the world, now go… play if you must. Just do it elsewhere and try not to kill each other in the process. It will reflect poorly on you if I receive visit from the office with yet another parental complaint."

Before he finished, the classroom emptied of all its cheering inhabitants, sans one cranky teacher, and two little boys - one unrepentant, the other uncertain.

Harry really wasn't sure what to do. When Mr. Nathraichean ordered all the children except for Dudley out, did he mean for him to leave too?

Harry started to get up and follow the others.

Wait a minute… he was supposed to have detention during recess.

Harry quickly sat back down in his seat.

One second thought, this wasn't the normal recess time. If he was supposed to have left with the others and didn't, the teacher would be angry.

Harry started to get up.

Only... if the opposite were true and he left, that would also make the teacher angry.

Harry sat back down.

Except that he _did_ say 'the rest of you', that would include him… wouldn't it?

Harry started to get up again.

Still, he really wanted to talk with his teacher, and this time _was_ supposed to be his…

Harry sat back down again.

On the other hand, he couldn't ask about the egg with Dudley there, so what was the point in staying? Even if Dudley knew part of it, he didn't know that part yet.

Harry started to get back up.

But…

"Make up your mind!" Both his teacher and his cousin shouted at him at the same time.

"Er… I guess… I'll… um… sorry…"

Harry sat down in his seat and stayed there this time, looking embarrassed.

"Ha-ha-ha! You looked like a broken Jack-in-the-Box!" Dudley squealed holding his sides from laughing so hard.

"I do not see the resemblance you claim between Mister…_'Krueger'_ and the hamburger chain restaurant. However, if you were referring to your cousin's meagre attempt at calisthenics, I agree that he was not producing optimal effectiveness," Severus stated dryly, unaware of how it would set Dudley off into another laughing fit, but this time at him.

"Ha-ha-ha! You're just as freaky as the rest of them! Ha-ha-ha!"

Severus was across the room in a blink of an eye and stood looming like a tower of doom over the foolish child. "Explain yourself Mister Dursley," he demanded in a low menacing tone.

Seeing the impending storm overhead, Dudley's laughter turned into hiccups.

"I just meant that… _(hic!)_... they would have thought something like that too… _(hic!)_... you know…a Jack-in-the-box… Jack-in-the-Box hamburger restaurants…" Dudley shrugged helplessly at his cousin. Surely, even freaks knew how stupid it was to confuse the two! One was a dumb toy and the other was something good to eat.

"And just who is this 'they' to whom you are referring?"

"ME! He meant ME! I'm that stupid!" Harry shouted in desperation to turn the conversation away from about whom Dudley was really talking. He had to stop his cousin from blurting out that his parents and Uncle Siri were still alive. No one, not even a muggle, could know!

Both Severus and Dudley turned to give Harry identical 'what-in-the-world-are-you-talking-about' looks.

"I… uh… get that kind of thing confused all the time… and…er… I talk to myself… _A LOT…_ so it's like… um… there are more me's than just me… so that makes me a 'they'… kind of. I mean… I think what Dudley was trying to say was just that he didn't think anyone else was that stupid… not that you are… but I am… isn't that right Dudley?" Harry finished lamely with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

"What'd I tell you? He's just freaky, through and through." Dudley said rolling his eyes.

Under other circumstances, Severus would have been inclined to agree, and then reprimanded Dudley severely for his questionable vocabulary. However, as he was working on zero sleep - he only focused on Harry still having no sense of self-worth. The three little words 'but I am' hidden in the middle of the boy's rambling disclaimer told him so. It irritated him right down to his badly-in-need-of- trimming toenails.

"What did I say about shrugging Mister…_'Krueger'_?" Severus snarled.

"Body language is best kept for dating, and I am far too young and inexperienced to participate in that activity." Harry parroted quietly, embarrassed to repeat it in front of his cousin, but glad he had derailed his teacher's attention to a slightly less dangerous topic.

"It would behoove you to remember that more often. If I have told you once, I have…"

Dudley knew that intro. It was the same one with which his parents always started their 'we-will-get-Harry-to-shape-up-if-it's-the-last-thing-we-do' sermons. The way his teacher was winding up, along with the pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back all businesslike, it looked as though he could literally lecture for an entire hour before he took another breath. Dudley decided to interrupt before he died of boredom.

"So… are you trying to make him more or less?"

"Am I trying to make whom, more or less what, Mister Dursley?" Severus stopped in mid-step to inquire in return. He had no desire to enter into a conversation with a boy who was supposed to be sitting silently in the corner (and was doing an abysmal job of it), but he was curious as to why said boy would brazenly interrupt him to ask a seemingly nonsensical question at the obvious risk of furthering his wrath.

"Are you trying to make Harry more or less freaky?" Dudley asked again rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I only ask because it affects me. So I have a right to know."

Harry groaned and put his face in his hands. This was going from bad to worse.

Severus was glaring so hard that his brows pulled into a vee. "You do, do you?"

"Well yeah… because if you're trying to make him less freaky, I can tell you right now you're going about it the wrong way. Mum and Dad have tried your way for years, and it doesn't work on him. I think he's immune… or just stupid - not sure which, maybe both."

"My way? And in your 'enlightened' observation, just what would 'my way' be?"

"All the yelling and threatening and bullying and stuff - it doesn't work. You just have to look at him to tell that," Dudley pointed with a fat finger at his shrinking cousin. "He's still as freaky as all get out. But I'm not all that sure that less is the way to go. It might be the ticket to go _freakier_ - since he's already that way. Take far less effort if you ask me."

"And by what definition do you use the term: 'freaky'?" When he had lectured Harry on this very topic the week before, he ended it unsatisfied that the lesson had penetrated the boy's thick skull. Perhaps a discussion with Dursley wasn't such a bad idea. By going to the source of the wellspring of misguided ideas, perhaps he would have more success at deprogramming Potter.

"You know… not normal."

"And by what standard do you gage…_ 'normal'_?" The way Severus said the word, as if it described something dripping with nasty smelly repulsive gunk, Harry was glad for once in his life that it didn't pertain to him.

"Me!" Dudley said proudly puffing up his chest.

"I see."

"Oh good," Dudley said visibly relieved, the subtle nuances of his teacher's voice inflections totally escaping his notice. "I thought it was going to be harder than this."

"Again, with the cryptic proclamations. Explain - _what _was going to be harder?"

"Making sure you're doing your job."

"And exactly what aspect of my job do you feel need monitoring?"

"You know… the private lessons you're giving Harry during detention!"

"Private lessons?" Severus' eyebrows shot up and he gave Harry a questioning glance. He had told Potter that under no circumstances was he to reveal the nature of the lessons if he wished them to continue. Had the boy broken his pledge so quickly?

Harry turning red and refusing to meet his eyes confirmed his suspicions that he had indeed. So much for secrets - Potter Junior was obviously as big a blabbermouth as Potter Senior once had been, at least when it came to any private information regarding one Severus Snape.

"That's okay you don't have to play dumb with me, I know all about it."

"You do?" Severus gave Harry another long probing look as the object of his scrutiny tried to slide under his seat. "Very well, let us assume for a moment that such lessons are indeed transpiring, and I am not verifying that they are. Why do you claim to have a vested interest in their outcome?"

"Because, if you don't do a good job and fix him, I'll get stuck with him living in the cupboard under my stairs as he used to do."

At that unexpected reasoning, Severus quit pacing and abruptly sat down on the edge of his desk in shock.

"Do not lie to me Mister Dursley."

"I'm not. My parents couldn't make him shape up and be like me, so they gave him away. I want to make sure you do a better job, so they don't get stuck with him again."

"He is your cousin, so why would that be an issue for you?"

Dudley shrugged. "Sometimes they forget about him like they did last Christmas. Not that I care, but if he dies in the cupboard he'll stink up the whole house and then what am I supposed to tell my friends?"

During the extremely long silence that followed Dudley's question, Severus tried to make sense of what he had just heard, and Harry tried to melt into a puddle again. Neither made any headway in their endeavours.

Severus' obsidian eyes locked onto Dudley's pale green ones, he would know the truth no matter the consequence. He could not, would not, believe that even a muggle would sentence a mere child, let alone the saviour of the Wizarding world, to dying in a cupboard. Severus probed quickly and ruthlessly, discarding all recent memories without so much as a glance and delving directly to the ones prior to the Death Eaters disastrous visit with the Dursleys on Christmas. The scene came into sharp focus.

He could feel Dudley's immense satisfaction as he counted the number of presents that had his name on them under the plastic tree (Diddydums had allergies according to his doting mum), when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Dudley's view shifted to a tall thin horse faced woman who bore a striking resemblance to the girl that Severus remembered as Lily's older sister. Severus shuddered. Petunia was carrying in even more gifts to add to the already overflowing mountain. She smiled at Dudley and fondly tousled his hair. At a loud shout, the woman turned to stare fixedly into the hallway, her smile twisting into a grim expression that turned her face to stone. Dudley's eyes followed her gaze and landed on a beefy man with a red face and large moustache. Severus correctly deduced the man to be Dudley's father – Vernon Dursley.

In the hallway, Vernon had a firm grip on Potter's ear and he was informing him in no uncertain terms, what the penalty was for him hitting his cousin on the way home from school. Severus could feel Dudley's glee at Potter's predicament as he and his mother joined the tableau in the hallway. Though Potter was apologizing profusely, none of the other players in the scene was inclined to grant him any leniency for the heinous crime. Vernon sadly shook his head, telling Potter that he obviously wasn't fit for decent company, and would remain confined for the remainder of the holiday so that the rest of them could enjoy Christmas like a 'normal' family.

Sentence proclaimed - the judge and jury carried it out by shoving Potter into what appeared to be a small utility closet off the main hallway and under the staircase leading to the upper floor. Right before the door slammed and latched closed, thus locking in the pleading child, the glare of the blinking multicoloured lights from the tree illuminated a scrap of paper tacked up on the rough wooden wall inside. It was a sign written in a child's hand, which proudly proclaimed the tiny dark dismal hole to be 'Harry's Room'.

Blast it all! Dursley hadn't lied.

Severus guiltily broke his gaze and cleared his throat. "Fine Mister Dursley, with that understanding as the basis for this discussion, I pose the following query: If your parents were unable to force Mister…_'Krueger' _into a mould of your likeness to suit them, what makes you think anyone else can do so?"

"'Cause you're getting paid for it," Dudley declared matter-of-factly over another involuntary moan from Harry's corner of the room.

"Am I?" Severus asked with raised eyebrows, this proclamation was almost as ludicrous as Dursley's last, but as he had been proved wrong on that one - who knew - maybe there was some anonymous benefactor dropping golden Galleons into his empty vault at Gringotts. Except that he would have thought that if such were the case, the little goblins would have sent a receipt or something…

"Well, kind of. We need to negotiate that." Dudley got to his feet and starting to pace back and forth in much the same manner that Severus had been doing just moments before, with his hands clasped behind his back very businesslike.

"We're just kids you see, that means we ain't got no money, so you being a grown up and all, well you can't be expecting hard cash." The multitude of coins that Dudley kept in his pocket didn't even warm at the lie. After all, it was his spending money. In his mind, Harry couldn't reasonably expect him to share.

"There is some, albeit miniscule, logic to that." After disregarding Dudley's questionable use of the English language, Severus was slightly amused. He wondered where Dudley was heading with his 'negotiations'.

"Darn right there is!" Dudley went over to stand behind Harry and clasped him on the shoulder with a heavy hand, preventing him from escaping the humiliating discussion. "Now my cousin here, he brought you something to pay you for the lessons you're giving him, but before he gives it to you, I need to know just what we're going to get in return."

"That would be between your cousin and I, there is a verbal agreement in place."

"My dad says verbal agreements are for rubes. He says to always get it in writing," Dudley said stubbornly. "I made up a contract for you since my stupid cousin forgot."

"That was quite enterprising of you Mister Dursley."

"Quite so," Dudley agreed retrieving the paper he'd been doodling on earlier from his notebook. After taking care to rip off the unflattering commentary from around the edges, he handed the rest of the page to his teacher. When Severus dangled it from his fingertips to avoid the chocolate smears, and tried to read the untidy writing, Dudley hurriedly handed him a pencil. "You don't have to bother reading it Mr. Nathraichean," Dudley assured him. "Just sign. I'll make sure he pays up. I know where he lives."

"I am sure that your father, the astute businessman that he is, also instructed you to never sign a contact without reading it… word… for… word."

"Well sure, but that only goes for me - doesn't mean you have to." Dudley's eyes wandered everywhere, but to meet those of his teachers.

"Humour me Mister Dursley."

"Okay... but don't take all day about it. Our offer is only good for five more minutes." Dudley flicked open the cover of his special edition Star Trek communicator wristwatch with his thumbnail and tapped the glow-in-the-dark crystal impatiently to emphasize the short time frame. All through his bargaining with Mr. Nathraichean, Dudley had to keep signalling Harry to quit panicking, but when he set the arbitrary deadline, you would have thought Dudley had just poked him with a sharp stick. Geeze… he'd have thought his cousin would have had more faith in him than that.

"It will take the time that it takes, no more, no less." It was difficult for Severus to not to give into the desire to take Dursley over his knee and teach him a well-deserved lesson on respect. However, during Dudley's little floorshow, it had not escaped Severus' attention that Potter had been on the edge of his seat looking as if the fate of the world was hanging in the balance. This was obviously of great importance to the boy, and Merlin only knew what his 'payment' was to be. Severus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before giving Dursley's document the grave consideration it deserved.

IMPORTANT CONTRACK

I Mr. Nathrakeion (hear after nown as the teachair) do hearby swear on a: _ (fill in the blank with something that means a whole lot to you) that I will give FREAK LESSONS to Harry (hearafter nown as the freakazoid) until he is either normal or until I die (the teachair not me). In exchange for unlimmited freakiness lessons (because it is going to take a WHOLE lot of them) the freakazoid will pay the teachair with a PRICELESS WORK OF ART! If the lessons don't take (because the freakazoid is just too stupid to get it and never will) then the teachair gets to keep the PRICELESS WORK OF ART for having to put up with him until he dies (the freakazoid not me). If the teachair doesn't do his job then the teachair will fourfit the PRICELESS WORK OF ART (but he can keep the freakazoid because nobody wants him back anyway). Hen forced and fourth with (and all those legally words) to imburse (that means pay) the honest witless (that's me!) for his valuable time in setting this all up (a.k.a. MY COMMISSION) the teachair will return to the honest witless (that's me again!) his writefull propparety: one GAME BOY (in working condition) and the dorkface freakazoid promises to not to run so fast when the honest witless is trying to catch him!

Signned:_

Mr. Nathrakeon -the teachair

Harry-the freakazoid

Dudley-the honest witless

"You have been diligently working on your spelling I see," Severus observed, resorting to his familiar sarcasm as he was momentarily at a loss for a more appropriate comment. Dursley would actually _give away_ his cousin? Did the boy not understand the danger in offering a thing like that to someone who was for all intents and purposes – a total stranger? It was not something to offer even in jest!

"Yeah, all the time, even at breakfast." Dudley crossed his eyes. He had forgotten to look for the P's and Q's that his aunt had assigned him to watch out for, and knowing Auntie Lily's penchant for teaching, she would probably ask how many he saw the minute he walked in the door. He hated math almost as much as spelling. Oh well, he could just make something up.

"And you wrote this entirely on your own?"

"Of course I did, who else?"

"Who else indeed. Tell me Mister Dursley – you state that if I fail to live up to your expectations that I may 'keep' your cousin as my remuneration. Do you not think that perhaps someone might disagree with you on this caveat?"

"Like who?"

"Your parents for one."

"Ha-ha! Disagree? My parents?" Dudley rolled with peals of laughter. "Get real! They never wanted him in the first place!"

Harry turned red.

Severus scowled. "Then perhaps y_o_ur cousin's current keepers, the…_'Kruegers'…_ might have a few words to say on the topic?"

Dudley scratched his head while he reflected back over his observations at breakfast that morning. "Noooooo… they cav-vee-oughtn't either."

"Your creative use of 'faux' English aside, I am interested as to your reasoning for that conclusion – please elucidate." Yes, he was very interested, as Potter had yet to provide a satisfactory answer of his own to that question, despite his vow to be totally forthcoming and truthful.

Dudley puffed up proudly at Mr. Nathraichean's words. By blatantly disregarding the scornful distain embroidering the edges of his teacher's adjectives, he heard only that the teacher had finally realized how creative and smart he truly was.

"You just have to look at Harry to see that nobody really wants him. If they did, they would have at least bought him some new shoes."

"What do shoes have to do with anything?"

"'cause he's still wearing my old ones!"

"And your objection is…?"

"'cause they were falling apart when I threw them out," Dudley rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I know they were, 'cause I poked holes in them on purpose so Mum would buy me new ones!"

Severus glanced sharply in Potter's direction, just in time to see him tuck his feet as far under his chair and out of sight as he could. The longer Harry felt his teachers probing gaze on him, the hotter his cheeks got. Harry had no idea why Dudley all of a sudden decided to become his champion, but he wished he would cut it out. It was just going to get them both into trouble!

"If you disposed of them, then why is Mister…_'Krueger's'…_ feet currently shod in them?"

"Funny you should ask 'cause I asked myself the same thing. Then I 'membered Dad saying that buying him new ones was like throwing good money after bad. That's why Mum made him wear my castoffs - 'cause he is as bad as it gets. But I thought since he wasn't livin' with me anymore that he would have new ones for sure, since the rest seem to think he isn't so bad - but he doesn't. So then, I think maybe they don't think so much of him either. So then I asked myself if _anyone_ would waste money on something they were just going to throw away soon," Dudley said putting voice to the nagging question that had been rolling around in his head all morning. When Mr. Nathraichean didn't answer his rambling question immediately, he prodded. "Well? Would they?"

"I suppose it would be fiscally irresponsible…" Severus said slowly considering what else it could mean. All he could come up with was that Mr. Neglectful-at-best was living up to his name, and Mrs. Nasty-note-writer fared no better.

"That's what I thought. So then I said to myself – Big D, it's like your Mum always says: you_ can_ judge a book by its cover."

"I believe the idiom is slightly different." Severus pointed out with a slight sneer.

"So you see it too!" Dudley said excitedly. His teacher was really coming around! First, he praised him, and now he was agreeing with him about the freak! Dudley was starting to feel a little guilty about trying to get him fired. Thankfully, the feeling passed.

"See what?" Severus asked mystified.

"Well the way I see it, is that if he _looks _like nobody loves him, then nobody does. Simple as that - the whole being able to judge a book by its cover business. It's because he's different and an idiot," Dudley proclaimed seriously. "Just like you said he is. I mean, who in their right minds would want him? Except that one man who offered me lots of money for him of course…"

"What man was that?" Severus cut in and abruptly demanded. His spy senses immediately on alert. Perhaps the Headmaster wasn't just being overprotective and Potter was actually in some real danger?

"Oh it was just some man from the circus."

"Circus? Go on..."

"Yeah I could tell because he was wearing an old fashioned cape and a tall hat and had one of those long pointy sticks that the ringmasters use. I think he wanted him for a circus sideshow, but ha-ha, who would pay money to see him? Anyway, other than that…" Dudley shrugged, "…I can't think of a sole who'd want him. But it's really not his fault. My mum say he got it from his father's side of the family," Dudley added in a half-hearted defence of his cousin.

Severus took a long look at Dursley and then back at Potter. Dursley certainly seemed to be certain of his facts, and Potter wasn't denying them. Only Potter never denied anything, Severus snorted to himself derisively. He'd probably even take the blame if the sun were to rise in the west, although with all this rain, who would know if it had? Thinking over the time he had been forced to spend with Potter, he had to reluctantly admit that as of yet he hadn't found anything that was totally objectionable about him, at least nothing that it couldn't be overcome with diligent training and a Polyjuice potion.

_So what is it about him that I am not seeing, that ever other adult in his life does? ... Why would anyone neglect a child so, even if he does have Potter Senior's inferior genes? As Dursley said – that's not his fault. It's mine, for not being more persistent with wooing his mother. His gene pool should be swimming with Snape DNA not polluted with Potter … Still half of him is Lily. Moreover, Lily was truly remarkable. That alone should go a long way towards diluting the Potter in him. So truly…' _

"…what could be so wrong with the boy?" Severus asked himself as he studied Potter closely, not realizing he said the last few words out loud until Dudley answered him.

"Practically everything! You've got your work cut out for you big time," Dudley said with a patronizing sigh.

"Hey! I _AM_ still in the room!" Harry protested, feeling as if he were a bug under a magnifying glass. His objection fell on deaf ears as the other two continued with their verbal sparring as if he said nothing. Their total disregard made him pinch himself on the arm just to be sure that he really was still there.

"Ouch!" …he was…

"I do, do I? Tell me Mister Dursley - do you ever feel remorse?"

"Remorse? What for?" Dudley scratched his head in puzzlement.

"The overbearing attitude you harbour towards your cousin for one thing."

"Once… kinda…" Dudley admitted. "But I got over it real quick."

"No doubt," Severus returned dryly. What else did he expect?

"So are we gonna wrap up this deal or not Mr. N? I wanna check you out in action, see if you're as good as the dorkface says you are, 'cause to tell you the truth I haven't been impressed with what I've seen so far. C'mon, c'mon! Sign already! Time is money, and your five minutes is more than up." Dudley used another one of his father's favourite quotes as he stood there with his arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

'_Mr. N?'_ Severus wand finger started itching at the unwanted familiarity.

In his mind's eye, he could see himself hexing the impudent little fiend into the next millennium, choreographed to the background music of unending cheers. Dudley's only saving grace was Severus' well-trained self-control. Instead, he carefully folded the contract into exact quarters, tucked it slowly into his inside breast jacket pocket, stood up, crossed his arms in front of his chest, pressed his lips into an intractable line, and held steadfast against his juvenile opponent.

Dudley's eyes narrowed to slits, and his upper lip curled in response to the challenge.

From the back of the room came a horrified gasp. It was going to be a duel of egos - snarky and snide versus sneaky and self-centred!

Harry could barely stand it as he watched the two lock into a battle of wills. No matter who won (and knowing both his cousin and his teacher – the outcome was a tossup), he already knew he would come out the loser. Therefore, it was with an immense sigh of relief that he heard the bell ring in the hallway, signalling the end of the normal recess period. A moment later, the door burst open and the rest of the children started tumbling into the classroom right in-between the two opponents, shattering the deadlock.

His classmate's arrival did not put Dudley into the same relived state of mind that it did his cousin Harry. Unaware of how close he had just come, to becoming a permanent spot of slime on the classroom floor, he felt disappointed as he stomped to his desk and slumped sullenly into his seat, deciding for himself that since recess was over then so was his 'time out'.

It just wasn't fair! He had finally gotten the teacher right where he had wanted him - to the brink of forcing him to return the much beloved Game Boy to its rightful owner: him! Now he didn't have a thing to show for it! It was just as when he would order a triple cherry-vanilla-marshmallow-fudge ice dipped in chocolate with rainbow sprinkles on top – and there were no blue sprinkles in the mix. It ruined the whole experience.

Dudley's disappointment, and Harry's relief aside, Severus was incensed at the returning children's deplorable condition.

They were dripping with mud from head to toe, and the minute that their chilled little bodies met with the heated atmosphere of the classroom, their noses had started running like faucets. He did not understand how muggle parents could be so inconsiderate of their children's teacher to send their children to school ill. It was unforgiveable! He loathed drippy noses they were so unsanitary.

Severus stormed up and down the aisles, handing out hankies, and demanded child after drippy-nosed-child to 'blow', as he contemplated the universal question: why him?

When their teacher had sent them off to recess early (as the most expeditious way to even the odds in his favour) they had first gone to the gymnasium, but the custodian had shooed them away. In a quick huddle it was decided that the library wasn't where their teacher would want them to play, especially after the stern lecture the day before about returning books on time and respecting the 'sanctity of knowledge'. None of them were quite sure what a 'sanctity of knowledge' was, but whenever a grownup threw in the word 'respect', it always meant that there wasn't any fun to be had there.

With everywhere inside ruled out, that left only two options: outside or returning to class. They just grinned at each other and ran for the door, slowing down only long enough to creep past the principal's office on tiptoe. As they would have also had to return to classroom in order to retrieve their raincoats and galoshes (left behind in their hasty departure), they didn't give them a passing thought, despite the steady drum of the rain.

In nine-year-old logic they thought that if they ran fast enough, chasing each other in a game of tag, they wouldn't get all that wet. It was at least worth a try in order to avoid the certainty of Mr. Nathraichean's wrath (and the pop quiz that would result) for disobeying his direct order to 'go play'. Of course, all of this perfectly ordinary logic completely escaped Severus' critical assessment of the situation.

The fact that he had ignored the memo, informing all the teachers that morning recess was to be an activity held in their classrooms due to the inclement weather and as the custodian was waxing the floor in the gymnasium, was not something he considered his error. He had far better things to do than to read perfumed messages from Ms. Smythe. She should have posted it more clearly. A prominent sign would have sufficed nicely.

Moreover, it certainly was not his fault that the children didn't have the sense not to go out in the rain without wearing the proper attire. Basic self-preservation skills were something their parents should have taught them long before now. As such, it was most certainly not listed in his curriculum.

No, if anyone was at fault it was either Potter or Dursley, the only two non runny-nosed children in the room… but which one? Whoever it was, would have had to have planned it for days, held meetings, and coordinated the sharing of germs with Hannah, their contagious classmate. It had to be, as it wasn't due to his neglect, there was no other reasonable explanation for the other nineteen all becoming ill at the exact same time.

Severus narrowed his eyes and glared over the sea of wheezing, coughing, sniffling children to the first possible culprit: Dursley.

There he sat - squished into his desk like an overstuffed plushy. His wanton desire for that blasted noisy muggle toy written all over his face… the stupid child. It didn't even work correctly! All it would do when Severus 'examined it' (for research purposes only) was to flash 'Game Over' on a tiny little screen, all the while emitting the most annoying beeps. The toy was of such inferior quality it hadn't lasted but a second when matched against his wand and a well-placed '_Confringo'_ curse. Severus summarily dismissed the possibility Dursley was at the root of prank. One who valued such a flimsy time-waster so highly would not have had the brain cells needed to instigate such a complicated plot.

Severus' eyes shifted to the second troublemaker: Potter.

'_Hrumph! He is looking even more scruffy than usual. It is as if even Potter's hair is purposely trying to get on my very last nerve by reminding me of his disgraceful father.' _

Harry noticed his teacher had a strange glint in his eyes. As he honestly couldn't think of anything he'd done in the past five minutes to warrant the stare he was receiving, he decided to pretend it was a friendly look instead of a hostile one. Very tentatively, Harry smiled back. The look on Mr. Nathraichean's rock hard face didn't change one iota. Encouraged when he didn't do that incredulous raised eyebrow thing back at him, Harry gave him an out and out happy grin and tossed in a small wave for good measure.

'_He's laughing at me! How dare he! Just as I start to believe he might be redeemable, he pulls an asinine prank like this! The hair doesn't lie – he __**IS**__ just like his father!'_

"The expeditious assistance of the school nurse is required… _post haste _if you don't mind." Mr. Nathraichean snarled at him. When a confused Harry didn't understand that this was an order for him to fly out of the room immediately and bring back the person in question, Severus started stalking angrily towards his desk.

Dudley snickered and punched Piers to draw attention to the fact that his cousin about to get his comeuppance from their teacher. Piers poked Gordon, Gordon jabbed Malcolm, Malcolm nudged Dennis in the arm, and Dennis whispered to the boy behind him. Soon the entire class was watching with anticipation.

"Well what are you waiting for Mister…_'Krueger'_ an engraved invitation?" Severus loomed over Harry and spat out the irksome name with more than the usual venom, making Harry jump back in his seat with a start. "One or two of your classmates may expire before that remote eventuality transpires."

This dire proclamation caused all the little girls to wail hysterically and feel their foreheads. While several of the boys made gasping noises and then pretend to keel over and fall out of their seats.

Severus shot them dark looks to make them stop before turning back to his primary target. "Go. Fetch. Now. Or do you not understand words of one syllable either?" This time, each word was clearly a command he was to obey without question.

With hot cheeks, Harry ran out of the room as the other boys started pelting him with their soggy hankies and coughing out teasing comments of "Here boy!" and "Go fetch!" as if he were a pup and they were tossing him sticks to play with. Dudley settled back in his seat satisfied. In his opinion, it was only fair that for every person who was snarky to him, ten additional were even snarkier to his cousin. As that was the way it should be.

Harry arrived breathless at the small cubby next to the office, where normally the school nurse could be found, only he discovered the door locked with a note sellotaped to it. His eyes got big as he read it. It stated that the nurse was out for day helping to deliver triplets and to refer all medical emergencies to the Principal's Assistant. With a cloud of doom hovering over his head, Harry paused with his hand on the knob of the door to the office. He knew what Mr. Nathraichean was expecting and Ms. Smythe was definitely NOT it. Harry slowly opened the door and put one eye to the crack.

Ms. Smythe was sitting at her desk, one by one decimating a bouquet of daisies she had ordered sent to herself from the florist at the advice of her friend Arabella. Arabella had thought that receiving flowers at work would brighten Virgie's spirits. As a side benefit, Virgie thought it might even spark a flame of jealousy in one particular tall, dark, and available substitute teacher. To that end, she had the florist enclose a card reading: 'To Virgie, some beautiful flowers for my Beautiful Flower, from your Secret Admirer'.

When the flowers arrived, she placed the bouquet in the lounge where the teachers gathered before class for their morning coffee, with the card (oops! tee-hee!) left 'accidentally' on the seat of the chair where Jeff Nathraichean usually sat when he joined these klatches. Nevertheless, all her clever plotting had gone to waste. He hadn't even bothered to show up, and getting him to come to her was proving next to impossible. There should be a rule that the impromptu morning coffee break was mandatory she thought crossly as she ripped the jaunty heads off from the last few daisies.

Virgie crumpled up the card, tossed it in the bin along with the pile of petals, and then dumped the handful of bare stems on top in disgust. Even the cheery little buds were against her, as it matter not if she started plucking out their petals with a 'he loves me' or with a 'he loves me not'. It always ended with the 'not'.

Picking up her hand mirror, she gazed deep into her blue-eyed reflection and wondered why her Jeffy-Poo could not see her for the wonderfully beguiling creature that she knew herself to be. It was so obvious! Something must be wrong with him. It was the only rational conclusion she could reach. If she could just find out what it was, she was sure she could fix him.

"Er… Ms. Smythe?" Harry hesitated at the doorway but didn't go in. He really didn't like the office, as every other time he had been there it was because he was in big trouble, and his Aunt or Uncle were called to the school. If he listened hard enough he was sure he'd still be able to hear the echo of Uncle Vernon yelling from the last time.

Virgie lowered the mirror slightly and peered over the top of it. When she spied the source of her interruption, she was not pleased. It was that bothersome little dark haired boy with the glasses again - the one that kept ruining all her plans.

"Go away - I'm busy."

"Er… sorry Ma'am… but… um… I… that is… he… er… that is… the note said to… (gulp!)… " Harry froze under the icy blue blast of Ms. Smythe's glare. He could see why Mr. Nathraichean was afraid of her – she was scary!

"Well, what is it?" she asked impatiently.

"!" Harry blurted out in one breath and then turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

"Oh." Virgie sat there for a moment stunned at the unexpected news. As it sunk in a slow smile started spreading over her face. "Oh my!" Virgie rolled up the waistband of her skirt one turn and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue and glanced at her reflection to admire the effect. "Oh my, yes indeedy!"

When Harry returned to the classroom, he found it in an uproar. Mr. Nathraichean was doing his best to control the chaos, but it had clearly gotten out of hand in the short time that it had taken for Harry to run to the office and back. Hearing his teacher bark out the order to 'STOP!' he halted in the doorway with his jaw dropped open in surprise.

The children didn't stop. For the more they had gotten to know the dour teacher, the more they realized he was all glare and no action. Despite his implied threats of 'dire consequences' if they did not behave, their punishments had boiled down to pop quizzes or writing lines until their hands hurt. He had yet to keep any of them in from recess or after school (except for Harry and he didn't count, and sometimes Dudley - but that was always Harry's fault and so that didn't count either). Moreover, he never called ANY of their parents in for a conference, to tell them what horrid little boys and girls they were. In fact, they had noticed he avidly went out of his way to be unavailable to their parents, almost as avidly as he avoided the topic of Arts and Crafts.

If it weren't for missing out on the fun of using scissors and glue to their hearts content (and that Dudley was dead set against him and NOBODY went against Dudley), he would have soared almost to the top of their favourite substitute teacher list (it would have been the very top but nobody could beat out Mrs. Krueger). As it were, sadly, he hovered near the bottom. Just above the first one - who wore glasses, pulled her hair into a bun, smelled like cats, must have been at least seventy hundred years old, called them all 'young ladies and young gentlemen', and kept pairing them off boy-girl-boy-girl (yuck!) - but below the last one - who was thin and sickly, had hairy ears, sharp teeth, and looked at them as if they were lunch and he had skipped brekki (shudder!)

Harry ducked and wove through the hubbub to the middle of the room and the relative safety of Mr. Nathraichean's side, behind a barricade of furniture. All the desks and were in the centre, and individual floor mats for napping (appropriated from the nursery class at the end of the hall) circled the perimeter of the room. Only, not a soul was napping on them. Instead, the little girls were all jumping up and down in a far corner, holding each other and screaming whenever any of the little boys came near. The little boys were running around with runny nose boogers dangling from their fingers, and were teasing the little girls by trying to get close enough to touch them. Almost that is, but not quite. None of the little boys wanted to waste a good booger on a cootie-covered girl! They all intended to put them in their pockets to surprise their mums later.

Severus detested being forced to deal with the unpredictability of young children. All he had done was order them to lie quietly on the mats until the school nurse came to attend to them - a most _reasonable_ request under the circumstances. It was as if they had become immune to his patented Hogwarts withering glare, known to send Ravenclaws and Gryffindors running for cover in their Common rooms, and reduce Hufflepuffs to tears. Severus' mistake (though he would never admit to it) was that he had broken the most fundamental rule of spies: never underestimated your enemy.

Speaking of which… just when Severus thought his day couldn't possibly get any worse, into the room sailed Ms. Smythe in full regalia, 'sailing' being an appropriate term as she was literally floating. Before Severus knew what was happening, she threw her arms around his neck as if she were a human life preserver and he a drowning man, flotsam in her sea of delusion. She then proceeded to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

All the little children stopped dead in their tracks and stared at the pair open mouthed.

"She is so totally wacked!" Dennis announced to anyone who cared to listen.

"Totally," Dudley agreed, calculating all the while how best to use it to his advantage.

Virgie cared not a fig what a bunch of undersized munchkins thought of her. She was on a giddy high - already mentally penning a juicy entry in her diary entitled 'My Romantic Interlude' …

_Dear Diary, OMG! He Loves Me! He Really Loves Me!_

Severus detested being forced to deal with the unpredictability of unattached females. All he had done was request the assistance of a trained medical professional - a most _reasonable_ request under the circumstances. Instead, what Potter brought him was that - that Woman! He did not know what was wrong with Ms. Smythe; all he knew was that she was most certainly NOT professional!

"Unhand me!" Severus snarled the moment he was able to 'undock' from her lip lock.

From all sides came giggles and snickers at his evident discomfort.

"Teacher's got a girlfriend! Teacher's got a girlfriend!"

Of all the times for his class to pay attention to him, it _had_ to be now!

"I. Do. Not. Have. A. Girlfriend. Now be quiet!" Severus demanded stiffly, and when they seemed to be obeying, he was lulled into thinking that he was starting to manage the situation nicely. However, all his stanch denial did was to set the little girls off singing.

"Teacher and Ms. Smythe sitting in a tree… K – I – S – S – I – N – G!"

"That is QUITE enough. Lay down on the mats, and this time STAY quiet." Severus ordered all the little girls, who were far too full of giggles to do any such thing. All that his frowning and sputtering did was to fuel the fire of their mutiny. The little boys whooped and hooted and picked up the singsong when the giggle-fits over took the little girls to the point where they simply couldn't go on they were laughing too hard.

"First comes love! Then comes …"

"Don't. You. Dare." Severus cut them off and threatened in a low no-nonsense-will-be-tolerated monotone.

In the hush that followed the warning, a high soprano whisper completed the verse by singing in his ear: _'...marriage!' _When Severus' eyebrow started twitching uncontrollably, Ms. Smythe shrugged and tried to look innocent of the deed. That is, if you consider batting your eyes shamelessly, looking innocent.

Right before the little fiends collapsed into a new round of giggles and hoots, they finished in unison: "THEN comes TEA-CHER with a BA-BY carriage!" at the top of their lungs, luring all the nearby teachers to the door to poke their heads in to see what was going on. Their knowing smiles, as much an annoyance to their teacher, as they were a delight to Ms. Smythe. That was – until Severus pushed her away right in front of them.

Later when Severus defended his actions to the other staff members, by relating his version of what he referred to as a 'Most Regrettable Incident', he categorically denied any reciprocation on his part. He maintained stanchly he had not been able to avoid the frontal assault due to the small mountain of miniature desks and chairs effectively blocking his escape route on two sides, and Potter clinging to him in abject fear blocking the third.

Silently he blamed Dumbledore for the whole sordid episode. If he not been indefinitely stranded (against his will) in the muggle world (by the aforementioned party) until his mind had turned to mush (and thus unable to defend himself in proper wizard fashion), that the woman would not have gotten within twenty meters of him.

Severus' negative reaction in front of the other staff members, threw Virgie for a loss - for all of a minute or two, before her optimism bounced back. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she attributed his standoffishness to extreme shyness, and decided it was just too adorable for words. When the audience dispersed (as further entertainment failed to materialize), she gave him another one of his limitless number of chances.

"But Jeffy-Poo… you _DID_ say you wanted me!"

"I said no such thing," Severus denied hotly.

"Yes you did… big boy… you said you wanted little ol' ME," Virgie said breathlessly, wetting her lips again as she ran a long red fingernail seductively down his collar. "So here I am – all yours."

"I want nothing of the kind! What gave you that preposterous idea?"

"Your little emissary of love, the one you sent to the office to tell me that very thing," Virgie nodded at Harry who was glued to Severus side and staring at his feet for all he was worth. His hope that if he did it hard enough that he would disappear, was written clearly all over his very guilty looking face.

"It will never work." Severus informed him dryly.

"I know what you're thinking about - Principal Speer's memo discouraging office romances." Virgie replied thinking he was still talking to her. "Don't you worry about that nasty old policy my little snuggle bunny."

"I am no Lagomorph! Snuggle or any other species! And I happen to support the Principal on this particular policy Ms. Smythe."

"It's Virgie, and don't be like that my little marshmallow peep," Virgie pouted prettily. "I'll just type up a new memo for him to sign. He'll never notice. I do it all the time."

"You are obviously operating under a gross misunderstanding. Mister…_'Krueger'_…" Severus grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him in-between himself and Virgie, using him as a shield. "Tell _**Ms. **_Smythe why I sent you to the office."

"Er… because you said you needed help?" Harry tried to back away from the steely glint in Ms. Smythe's eyes.

"Be more specific Mister…_'Krueger',_" Severus said thrusting him forward again. "Of whom did I request you to ask for help?"

Harry shut his eyes tight before he answered. If either Ms. Smythe or his teacher were going to kill him, he'd rather not see it coming.

"You told me to fetch the school nurse. Only... she wasn't there." Harry explained. "There was just a note on the door saying to go to the office… so I did… go to the office that is… and… and you seemed dead set on me not coming back without _someone_, and Ms. Smythe was the only one there, so I… I-told-her-you-wanted-her-to-come."

As Severus' iron grip on his shoulder lessened slightly, Harry took advantage of the opportunity to duck and run out of reach.

"There you have it Ms. Smythe. Do you see now? You were obviously the only one left for me." As a slow smile spread once again over Virgie's features, Severus realized what it was he had just said. "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! That was NOT what I meant! Arrrghh!" He simply could not understand how someone of his unwavering calibre could become so flustered around the aggravating woman.

"That's alright Jeffy-Poo, so I wasn't your first choice. I can live with that," Virgie shrugged and pretended to be hurt, but inwardly her heart was still singing at the possibilities. "But I'm here now, so what was it you needed me so… _desperately_ for?"

"During recess, the children took it upon themselves to thwart my order to not do themselves any bodily harm, and became ill. They need…" Severus paused to consider the possibility of apparating to Hogwarts to bring back Poppy the Mediwitch to tend to them, rather than resorting to asking Ms. Smythe for assistance. It would certainly save him from all this drama.

"…a woman's touch?" Virgie supplied hopefully.

"…_Medical Assistance._" Severus corrected in the low monotone that secretly curled Ms. Smythe's toes.

Virgie kicked off her shoes and sighed… well at least he still needed her for something. She would just have to work harder on the reason. "What's wrong with them?" she asked looking at the crowd of nine-year-olds with a critical eye. "Besides being nine, that is."

"Noses - they are running," Severus pointed out distastefully as if it should have been quite obvious.

"Oh you poor little dears! However did that happen?" Virgie asked making a great show of gathering the two closest to her bosom, to impress him with her motherly qualities.

"…mmmrump! ..." Chloe's muffled voice came from the depths of Virgie's angora jumper.

"... can't… breathe…" Gordon squawked. As he wrestled to free himself, he accidentally kicked Ms. Smythe in the shin.

"Ouch! Oh you rotten little…" Virgie caught herself before she kicked back. "Ha-ha… I mean, oh you _poor_ little dear!"

"Does it matter_ how_ they became ill? The fact remains that they are." Severus asked impatiently pulling Gordon and Chloe out of her clutches and pointing them towards the napping mats on opposite sides of the room. "Boys – left! Girls – right! Now move!"

"Well what do you expect me to do about it? All children have runny noses when they are cold – where do you think the 'chill' in 'children' comes from?" Virgie asked infuriated with her hands on her shapely hips. First, he rejects her, and now he was being downright rude. A girl could only take so much… without a little encouragement that is.

"I don't know… wipe them or something. Just make it stop."

Virgie started to seethe. If that was all he wanted, he should have done it himself and not bothered her. She had a scathing comment on the tip of her tongue but then bit it back. She had wanted an opportunity to show him what good 'wife and mother' material she was. How better to do it than to rescue him from the curse of the deadly drips?

"Fine, Jeffy-Poo – I will _save_ you," she crooned out sweetly. "Where is your supply of hankies? I didn't bring any with me."

"Desk. Top right. Help yourself." Severus clipped out the instructions as he nabbed another wandering child and put him back on his mat.

Virgie's nostrils flared when she realized that not only had she lost her beau's attention, but also that he'd reduced her role to one of a common nursemaid. Vexed, but determined to make the best of it, she rifled through his desk when she didn't find the box of hankies in the drawer he indicated. She supposed she should have asked again, but he seemed to have his hands full at the moment with the Dursley boy, and he did say that she should help herself, she thought self-righteously.

"But I'm not ill! And I don't wanna take a nap!" Dudley whinged annoyingly and pulled a face at his teacher.

"I do not care if you sleep or not, just lay on the mat," his teacher ordered.

"If I have to lie down then I want my Game Boy back! I ALWAYS get to play with my Game Boy if I have to take a nap in the middle of the day." Dudley started to work himself up into a monumental tantrum. "I want my Game Boy! I want my Game Boy!"

"No."

"But it's MINE! And I want it BACK! If you don't give it back I'll – I'll tell Principal Speer that you and Ms. Smythe are all lovey-dovey! That's what I'll do! I will! I will! Him, and my dad, are golfing buddies – so he'll listen to me." Dudley threatened calculatingly.

"So be it Mister Dursley. Here you are, now be quiet." Severus said retrieving the item from his left middle desk drawer and depositing it into Dudley's pudgy hands. He did not relish any additional entanglements, the situation was untenable enough already.

"Hey! No fair! It's broken!"

"I am sure it was that way when I got it. You should take better care of your things." Severus said smoothly and turned his back on the infuriated boy. He had the overwhelming feeling that he should return to his desk as something was tugging at his subconscious, and it wasn't guilt.

When he had gotten the toy out of his desk, something had seemed amiss, but he couldn't place what it might be. He sat down and thoughtfully pulled back open the same drawer. Thumbing though the contents, he compared it to his mental inventory. It all seemed to be there: sling shots, spit wad blow guns, crib notes, doodles, passed posy notes, Potter's picture, candy, Easter egg scrunchies... all the confiscated hodgepodge that defined the school life distractions of the typical nine-year-old.

Severus shook off the nagging feeling that he was overlooking something important, and focused instead on the problem at hand: how to best spike the children's milk at lunchtime with Pepperup Potion without anyone witnessing him do it. Surely even the Ministry of Magic would not frown upon him magically 'helping' all these poor unfortunate drippy nosed muggle children - it could only be looked upon as a humanitarian act of mercy of the highest order.

It turned out to be easier than expected. As the school grapevine was quite lively that morning, lunch arrived at the classroom pushed in on a large cart from the kitchens by the head cook herself. It made Severus almost homesick for the Hogwart's house elves.

"Now don't ye be a' thinkin' that you be a getting' service the likes o' this ev'ry day. 'cause it warn't be a' happenin'," voiced the gruff head cook, "I'se just dunna want my caf'teria full o' germs don'cha know."

"Perish the thought," he agreed amiably taking the cart from her and hurrying her back out the door after assuring her that he would return the cart forthwith. Severus rubbed his hands together in glee as he looked over the contents of the cart. That the head cook has chosen to pamper the 'po' wee bairns' with chocolate milk instead of plain would help to disguise the taste. With Ms. Smythe unwittingly distracting the children for him (they taking turns playing tricks on her by warming up the thermometer she had retrieved from the nurse's office to make her think they had fevers), he would be able to 'doctor' them with ease.

Putting a liberal dose in each milk box from the potions supplies he kept in his locked bottom drawer, he then dismissed a miffed Ms. Smythe with a wave of his hand, saying that 'her services were no longer needed'.

'_Not needed? Not NEEDED?'_ With cheeks aflame with embarrassment at the snub, Virgie stomped back to the office, feeling woefully unappreciated after all her hard work.

Severus did feel just a tad rude about rushing her off like that, as she had served a somewhat useful purpose. However, it was for the best. He did not want any adult muggle witnesses to the effects of the Pepperup potion. Besides, the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to dislodge the false ideas that there was a 'relationship' budding between them back out of her ditsy head, without resorting to a memory charm.

"Attention class!" Severus waited for the sneezing and coughing to die down before continuing. "Cook has kindly supplied us all with a nice hot lunch, and I have special cartons of chocolate milk for anyone who can drink it all without stopping. Do I have any takers?" A small knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, when as expected, every child volunteered by raising their hand high in the air. Dudley raised both hands hoping to get two.

Severus felt back in his element of Potions Master, as he passed out the spiked chocolate milk and mugs of hot chicken soup. Now that he the cook and the principal's assistant had both left, he wasn't too worried about anything the children might say - if they said anything at all. He wouldn't even have to resort to erasing their memories, for what parent would take their child seriously if they complained about their teacher? Ha! Not a soul in Muggleville, that's who, he smirked with satisfaction. At nine - children complained about everything a teacher did. 'Funny tasting milk' would just be one more thing, with no more credence than the rest. Especially, if they claimed that it made steam come out of their ears for several hours – just childish flights of fancy.


	14. A Patchwork Egg: part 9

By the time afternoon recess arrived, the class was back to their normal healthy selves and Severus shooed them out with strict instructions that they were to go to the library, and nowhere_ but_ the library. Once there, they were to read quietly, so that the librarian would not have a cause to evict them.

Ah! Quiet… blessed quiet… thank Merlin! He was so glad they were gone, if even for a short time. Severus had no idea how parents handled it for year, after year, after year. He would go stark raving barmy. Recess should be much longer, maybe he should suggest Ms. Smythe write a memo to that effect for the Principal to sign... no better not… it was a bad idea. Ask no favours, have no debts.

Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension when he heard a small sound. As if someone were clearing his throat preparing to speak. It could only be… Potter. Thinking about who was at the other end of that tentative little sound made Severus' head throb more. Couldn't the child misbehave for once and leave him alone?

Severus slowly opened his eyes and confirmed his suspicion.

"Er… Mr. Nathraichean?"

"What is it Mister…_'Krueger'?_"

On his way to recess, Dudley had made a point of taking the long route to the door, so he could pass Harry's desk and heckle him by whispering in his ear: "Remember freak -Cha-ching!" Harry knew what that meant. Now that the teacher was no longer holding Dudley's toy for ransom – Harry was on his own to make the deal with Mr. Nathraichean.

"I… ah… I- I wanted to ask you something."

Severus glowered at him crossly.

Harry's mouth snapped shut, and he swallowed down the bitter bile that was creeping up his throat from his queasy tummy. He couldn't possibly ask him anything in that mood!

"One should not declare one's desire to raise a query, and then not do so - it is immensely aggravating."

"Oh, sorry Sir. It's just that you don't seem much like you want to be bothered with a question right now."

"And yet you are still talking. Therefore, you might as well ask your question and get it over with, so that I may return to my meditation."

"Right, sorry again. Well… the thing is that Dudley said that when you have lessons, you are supposed to pay the teacher… and well… I didn't mean to do it wrong but I didn't know that before… I do now, but you probably don't want it anyway."

"Was there a question in there?"

"Er… no?" Harry had to think hard to answer that one. He had been so stuffed full of the questions that he had wanted to ask, ever since the aborted duel, that he couldn't believe he hadn't burst before now for trying to hold them in.

Severus' glower deepened. "You are wasting my time. What did I tell you about that?"

"Not to do it."

"And why should you abstain from participating said irksome action?"

"Because, you have no respect for people who waste your time, so - so I guess that means you don't respect me," Harry answered quietly with his head hanging down.

Severus was about to start lecturing Harry for not standing up for himself, when he heard him ask in an even smaller voice, "Is that why you wouldn't do it Sir?"

"Why I wouldn't do what?"

"Sign it."

"Again, you mystify me child. What in blazes are you nattering on about now? Explain."

"The contract Dudley wrote up. You wouldn't sign it. Does that mean you aren't going to give me any more lessons?" There - he'd asked. He didn't really want to hear the answer if it was 'no' like he thought it was going to be, but he had to know for sure. If Mr. Nathraichean stopped helping him, it wouldn't matter if the egg was still alive or not, he might as well just give up. It was a good thing he'd kept packed.

Severus was speechless. Did the boy not possess even one shred of self-respect? "Child, do you understand _why_ I wouldn't sign your cousin's contract?"

Harry nodded into his desktop, and blinked back a tear. He absolutely _would not_ cry!

"I don't believe you do." Severus sighed. He never thought that he would be stuck in the position of having to comfort James Potter's offspring. If he ever got out of Little Whinging, he would never forgive Dumbledore for putting him there. He got up, moved over to squat down beside the boy's desk, and raised Harry's chin, but Harry still wouldn't meet his eyes. "In fact I am quite positive that you do not."

Harry finally looked up, and Severus knew he was right. There was only hurt in the child's eyes.

"The reason I did not agree to your cousin's terms had nothing to do with you."

"It didn't?" Harry asked with a spark of hope.

"No you silly child. I am quite satisfied with the agreement already in place. What your cousin was trying to do was completely self-serving, and illegal besides. Not only are both of you far too young to enter into a binding contract, but what he was offering, was 'you'. Do you not realize that? He was willing to forfeit your freedom, for a worthless toy. What's more he offered you to someone he didn't even know! He has no clue of what I might be capable, what kind of person I am, or what I might have done to you - should you have been forfeited as payment for services rendered."

"He thinks you're maniacal," Harry nodded wisely. "Just like our vocabulary word."

"Ah yes - today's lesson. Describe the word."

"Er… it's an adverb, meaning… er… meaning to be really good at playing the piano."

"No Mister…_'Krueger' _that is 'musical'_ - _which I most definitely am not. Vis-à-vis the word 'maniacal', which is an adjective, means to have or show insanity, or in the current vernacular: to be stark raving barmy."

"Oh, that's bad…"

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of one of Severus' lips at the succinct definition, "All the more reason to not sign. You wouldn't have wanted to end up the property of a 'bad' man, would you?"

"I would have signed anyway. I trust you," Harry answered with complete faith.

"You shouldn't. I'm not the paternal type. I am bound to have made a shambles of it."

Harry shrugged indifferently, "You couldn't be any worse than the Dursley's, and that's where I'll end up again, if the lessons don't work and the egg doesn't hatch. Oh the egg! Is it all right? That was my other question."

To answer him, Severus abruptly rose and strode back to his desk. Unlocking his bottom drawer, he pulled out the nest box and placed it in front of Harry. "The egg will most likely hatch with the proper care."

Harry was so happy to see it he could scarcely breathe. Carefully taking it out of the nest, he traced the fine web of cracks across its shell. The pattern reminded him of the patchwork quilt Mrs. Figg had let him sleep under once when he stayed at her home. The quilt had made him feel so loved, just as the egg did now. Putting it to his cheek and could feel the little creature inside rumbling with happiness at being reunited. Jumping up he threw his arms around his teacher's waist.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Enough of that nonsense, it hardly took any effort at all. It means nothing." Severus said brusquely, as he gently pried himself loose of the enthusiastic hug. It was a curse to be such a child magnet.

"Maybe not to you Sir, but it means _everything_ to me! I can't thank you enough. I know! My payment! Let me get it for you! Maybe you don't want it for the lessons but you must take it for saving the egg! Even doctors get paid! So I have to give you something! I just have too! Just a sec! I have it right here! It's brilliant!"

"Ah yes, the 'Priceless Work of Art'."

Pleased, Severus hid his amusement as Harry practically fell out of his seat as he dove between his legs to pull something out of his book bag under his chair. All the blood rushed to his head making him dizzy when he suddenly popped back upright clutching a riotous bouquet of construction paper flowers.

"I made most of them myself, I got up early and everything," Harry said proudly thrusting them in his teacher's hand.

"Just 'most'?" Mr. Nathraichean looked at him sideways and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Er yeah… Dudley helped."

"He did? Well consider me amazed."

"He let me have his because he'd used up all the black paper last night, and he thought if you liked any flowers at all you would like the dead looking ones the most."

Severus dangled one of the buds in question by its stem. All of the buds were the worse for wear, having been crammed in the well-packed book bag, along with everything Harry owned, but the black ones were particularly scraggly and malformed and seemed shaped like a claw.

"Interesting flora, what genus is it representing?"

"They're Easter lilies! I traced my hands for the petals! Well that one is one of Dudley's and he was trying to make them as ugly. But this is one of mine." Harry explained, plucking up a pastel pink one that had fallen on the ground. Flattening it out on his desktop and pressing his hand to the form, he showed how the paper echoed the shape of his fingers spread out. "See? Mrs. Krueger showed us how to make them. You just trace your hand on a piece of paper and cut it out, then you curl the fingers around a crayon or a pencil to make the petals, and the palm holds them all together! Neat huh?"

"'Neat' is not exactly the adjective I had in mind. However, it will do for the lack of one more suitable."

"You don't like them?" Harry asked apprehensively at the derisive tone in his teacher's voice. If he didn't, then he didn't have anything else with which to pay him! He hadn't considered that possibility.

"I did not say that Mister…_'Krueger'. _The bouquet is a most 'adequate' payment for my paltry services. I accept, thank you."

Harry grinned widely. Getting an 'adequate' out of Mr. Nathraichean was tantamount to receiving the highest of praise from anyone else. It didn't get any better than that!

"You know Sir…" Harry said slowly. "_If_ you would unlock the craft closet, I _could_ make a vase for them… I cross my heart I won't make a mess - and it _would_ keep me busy and out of your hair while you meditate. Isn't that a good idea? Huh? Isn't it?"

"Don't wheedle. It doesn't become a student of Salazar." Severus chastised the beaming boy. It was truly nauseating. "You spill it, you clean it," he stipulated holding out the key.

"YAY! I'm still a student!" Harry shouted and grabbed the key out of his teacher's hand and ran to the craft closet to ransack it for supplies. On the way back, he mouthed a smaller 'yay' and made an exaggerated show of tiptoeing in silence when he saw Mr. Nathraichean rubbing the bridge of his nose, as he was already regretting acquiescing.

For the remainder of the recess period, Severus watched his student through slitted eyelids. With tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth and the egg nestled security in the crook of his arm, he reminded Severus so much of Lily. James had been a clumsy oaf, but Lily... his Lily was fascinating to watch. It was also fascinating to watch her son as he methodically covered a rescued milk carton, with tiny scraps of coloured paper.

Severus had to admit surprise that Potter had even found that much construction paper to work with, since he had used the bulk of it for a small bonfire one night when he was particularly annoyed at living in a damp dank alleyway. Watching the craft supplies go up in a burst flames had been quite heart-warming.

Harry had tugged opened the top of the carton so that it was square. Then he rinsed it out at the drinking fountain in the hallway. Though he was a bit disappointed that he hadn't been able to find a nice big sheet of black paper in the closet to cover it with, he made due with the few bits he found. He used the edge of the scissors to scrape as much wax off the outside as he could, so that the glue would stick. Then as he had more purple scraps than anything else, he applied those in a random pattern until the sides were all covered, and cut round circles out of the other colours and scattered them over the surface to cover up and gaps in the paper.

Lastly, he fluffed up the scrunched paper flowers until they looked almost as good as new, and arranged them in their new vase. He took special loving care of the three that Dudley had been mixed in at the last minute that were copies of his family member's hands. When he was done, he placed the finished bouquet on the corner of his teacher's desk. He was pleased with the effect. Only he had to smother a laugh when he realized that unconsciously he had made the vase look just like the egg with all of its patchwork of cracks and florescent polka-dots.

For both Harry and Severus, the bell signalling the return of the other students, rang far too soon. And although Severus still thought that making paper flowers was an excessively superfluous activity, and certainly not worth considering spending even one minute of valuable class time on, he begrudgingly did have to admit that they made a cheery little splash of colour on a cold dreary day.

An unexpected complication arose when the cheery splash drew the attention of all the little girls and they crowded around his desk to admire the flowers and clamoured for instructions on how to construct them. Severus was not pleased. Why was it whenever he did something 'nice' it invariably came back to bite him in the arse?

Ten little excited girls all clamouring to do Arts and Crafts versus one snarky Potions Master who would rather not. Severus sighed as one condemned, he knew there was really no contest - he was far too outnumbered to avoid it again. Although… it didn't mean that he couldn't lead an Arts and Crafts session his way – with no muss no fuss (aka no glitter no glue). Unfortunately, the little girls were bound to be disappointed with his methods. Ah well, too bad for them, as that couldn't be avoided either.

"Very well, if you will all return to your assigned seats, I will instruct you on the glories of the genus lilium."

"Ha-ha! Lillian ain't a genius, and she sure ain't glorious!" Dudley cackled and started all the rest of his gang laughing at the expense of one of their classmates.

Lillian, who sat one row over to the right and two seats in front of Harry, whirled around in her seat to face her tormenter. Pushing up her glasses with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she didn't look at all phased by the teasing. Twirling a lock of her red hair around her finger she shot back: "Maybe not, but I'm no Dursley dummy either!" Then Lillian stuck her tongue out at him, setting all the little girls to giggling when Dudley couldn't think of quick counter retort.

Harry grinned admiringly at Lillian, and pushed up his own glasses. Dudley picked on him a lot, but he never thought of a comeback as swiftly as she did.

"Children, you forget - I have seen _ALL_ of your test scores. And that, as they say, is enough said on the matter of dismal digits." Severus snorted derisively at all of them as he strode to the front of the room where he started clearing off the blackboard so vigorously that the chalk dust created a voluminous cloud around him.

Harry snickered. His teacher was good at thinking on his feet too. Maybe if he ever got down the potential thing, he would see if Mr. Nathraichean would give him lessons on snappy put-downs. Next to Uncle Siri, he'd never seen anyone so expert at them.

"As I was saying, the genus lilium is one of the oldest known cultivated plants. You can find its description in records going back three thousand years. Can anyone tell me what other commonly used plants today, are related to the lily?"

The class was surprisingly quiet for nine-year-olds. The little girls were all busy wondering what the teacher's lecture had to do with scissors and paste. The little boys were all wondering why anyone cared to keep a stinky flower around that long.

"No one knows? How unexpected. Anyone care to venture a guess then?"

Katie slowly raised a hand at the prodding of Chloe and Daphne.

'_Go on! Go on! Ask him!' _they pressured her from both sides of the aisle.

"Yes, Miss Jones please do - 'go on'."

"Um… well what we want to know is when are we going to make our own flowers?"

"When each and every one of you becomes a world renowned botanist," Severus answered her with dead seriousness.

"But that will never happen!" Katie and her friends wailed as the writing on the wall became startlingly clear.

"Precisely my point, now that we've all agreed on that salient detail I believe we best get back to the noble pursuit of knowledge." Severus started writing a list of plants on the board. "There are over eighty varieties of the lily and its genus includes onions, garlic, yams, leeks and my personal favourite - asparagus."

"_It figures he'd like asparagunk," Dudley whispered loudly to Piers. "I bet he's allergic to garlic – him being a vampire and all." _All the children around him started to giggle, both at his comment and at him being clueless to his imminent predicament.

"You would lose that wager Mister Dursley," Mr. Nathraichean sneered from directly behind Dudley, having moved towards the boy while Dudley was busy not paying attention again. "You should not make assumptions about people of whom you have no acquaintance. It is a myth that vampires are sensitive to garlic. A lesson you will not soon forget after writing the phrase: 'Making assumptions will only make me an ass.' one hundred times on the blackboard, while I and your classmates resume our discussion."

Severus congratulated himself for his restraint, as his first reaction to the slur was to whip out his wand and transform the nasty little boy into a real ass. While he was not ignorant to the fact that the same rumour made the rounds at Hogwarts with every new class of first years, they at least had the good manners and respect to avoid voicing it within his hearing. Just because he preferred to wear all black, did not make him one of the undead, it just made him a coordinated dresser. Besides, it was practical - black didn't show potion stains.

Harry thought it curious how Mr. Nathraichean phrased that. Denying neither, the existence of vampires, or that he was one. It reminded him of when the class asked Uncle Remmy if he was a werewolf. Uncle Remmy didn't deny it either, and it turned out to be true. Harry gazed with new eyes at his mentor. Could his cousin be right? The teacher did kind of look like a big black bat at times, but Harry thought he looked more like one of ominous thunderclouds that had been filling the skies for the past week. He could easily imagine him zapping some unsuspecting target with a bolt of lightning.

"…the Lily and its relatives are cultivated primarily for ornamentation and cookery …"

Cookery… Dudley hated being hungry more than anything else he could think of besides someone laughing at him.

"…to everything there is a season - the lily is an example of this. It is a comprehensive demonstration of the cycle of life: birth, growth, death, and resurrection. This is why it is a symbol of this time of year…"

There was a time when his gang would have had his back, instead of snickering at his punishment. At the very least, they would have warned him the teacher was sneaking up on him! That they didn't this time made Dudley suspect that he was beginning to lose his place at the top of the pack. Up until this year, he had always been able to get the class and the teacher on his side, and now they all seemed to be on that of his cousin. Ever since he had had to move in with his Aunt Lily and Uncle James, everyone had been dumping on him more and more.

"…from an inert rocklike lump of matter buried in the earth, outwardly devoid life, to later burst forth as a delicate graceful bloom…"

Over his shoulder, Dudley eyed the vase of paper lilies on the corner of the teacher's desk. They had been all his idea and he doubted if the freak had given him any credit for helping to make them. Otherwise, why would the teacher rag on him over a little joke? It was as if he and his cousin had switched places in the hierarchy of the universe. Jealousy was a most uncomfortable feeling and tasted sour in his mouth.

"…during the Middle Ages, the miraculous yet natural changes observed in the lily, made it easy for the populace to also attribute unnatural powers to it. It was believed to be a charm which could protect the possessor against mischief makers and imps…"

Dudley wrote on the board as squeakily as he could so as too purposefully irritate the teacher. He bitterly doubted that he if he complained someone had picked on him when he got 'home' to his relatives, that anyone there would sympathize with him. Wishing his parents were back, he remembered the morning they had left on Holiday – he had yelled at them, that if they wouldn't drive him to school, then he didn't care if they came back or not. They told him that he shouldn't say things he didn't mean. Except that the truth was, he did mean it… then. Only now that he was starting to miss them for real, he was angry. He didn't think that they needed to stay away this long just to prove to him that they were right. They were his parents after all weren't they? They should have realized by now that he never learns his lesson. Geeze!

"…one commonly held belief was that just by breathing in the heady scent, one would become imbued with the power to thwart evil…"

The continual droning of his teacher's voice made Dudley grind the chalk into the board causing it to snap in two. Couldn't the man _ever_ shuddit? Being such a git… now, THAT was evil! He had to do something to escape before he died of boredom.

"I gotta _GO…NOW!_" Dudley announced without fanfare, right as Severus was warming to the topic and on the verge of adding an intriguing element to his lecture: a discourse on how, if properly prepared, one could use various parts of the lily in potions.

Severus stopped to scrutinize the complainer: dancing back and forth on tiptoe, strained expression on his face, hands clenched in agony… "By all means Mister Dursley," he dismissed Dudley with a wave of his hand as the boy shot out the door.

Ten feet down the hall, Dudley skidded to a stop with a big grin on his face. He really didn't have to 'go' anywhere, ha-ha, except perhaps to overacting school. However, as long as he had nothing better to do he decided to go to the boy's loo anyway, he hadn't listened in on the Principal's office for days now. Making himself as comfortable as he could in the last stall, he listened with interest to the private conversation between Principal Speer and Ms. Smythe, coming faintly through the heating duct.

"…and then he took advantage of me!" came Ms. Smythe's high-pitched soprano.

Dudley rolled his eyes. Yuck! Girly stuff! The principal's assistant was just talking about her latest boyfriend.

"Advantage? Come now Ms. Smythe, the man isn't sociable enough to take advantage, that would require personal interaction and the man just isn't capable of it. In fact I had a letter arrive just this morning from the mother of one of his students who was complaining that she still hasn't persuaded him to meet with her for a parent-teacher conference… now where did I put it?..."

'_Wait a minute…' _Dudley craned his neck to catch every word over the sound of shuffling papers. _'Are they talking about a teacher? Hm… but which one, is the question.'_

"Well, he took advantage of my good nature! Then he – he – he said he no longer needed my services! …" Ms. Smythe started to wail and Dudley could hear her blowing her nose. "… and then - then he dismissed me like I was a – _a servant_!"

"Now that's what I'm talking about! Not that I condone that type behaviour mind you, it was rather rude from the sound of it, it is just more in keeping with his priggishness."

"But I haven't even told you the worst yet!"

"There's more?"

Dudley's ears perked up. From the way that the Principal asked the question, he sounded fed up. Maybe he'd get some good dirt after all. Dudley hoisted himself up on the seat of the toilet so that he could hear better.

"Yes there's more. I checked his classroom thoroughly when I was there this morning…"

'_Aha! This morning she was in my classroom! They're talking about Mr. Nathraichean!'_

"… and there is not a single drawing pinned up!" Ms. Smythe crowed triumphantly.

"No children's drawings of colourful eggs?" The principal asked to clarify.

"Not even one of a plain brown one."

"Clay bunnies moulded by tiny hands drying on the windowsill?" he queried further, still unsure of what she was getting at.

"Nor any made by big hands either."

"Butterflies made of pipe cleaners and tissue paper hanging from the light fixtures?" Surely, she must have missed something, probably just forgot to look up.

"Not a flutter."

"Paper-mâché baskets?" Those are usually so messy the eye tends to block them out.

"Totally paper-less."

"Popsicle birdhouses covered with glitter?" That's the ticket – no one can resist glitter.

"Not a glimmer of one."

"Chicks and ducks made of egg cartons and pompoms glued together?" They are usually small and easily overlooked.

"The only sticky things in that room were the students."

"So, you are saying that Jeff Nathraichean's class has not completed an Easter project?"

"That's right, and Easter is just a few days away, so he is obviously not going to do one, even though you told him in no uncertain terms that he must. It is just shameful that's what it is." The immense satisfaction in Ms. Smythe's voice as she snitched on his teacher made Dudley laugh out loud.

… **SPLASH! ...**

"What was that?"

Dudley held his breath. Laughing so hard had made him lose his balance and his foot had slipped off the rim and into the bowl.

"I don't know. But whatever it was seems to have stopped…" Ms. Smythe's voice floated through the vent sounding doubtful and suspicious as the same time.

"I swear, sometimes I believe this office is haunted! Ah, finally! Here is that letter! Now that I found it again, I think I'd better address the situation immediately."

"Which situation is that - mine or yours?" Ms. Smythe was beginning to suspect that her tender feelings were about to be ignored for the second time in one day.

"I see no reason why it can't be both," Principal Speer said to appease his assistant, though he hadn't a clue what she was talking about. She had a situation as well? As far as he was concerned, the only situation at hand was a minor personnel matter regarding a Parent-Teacher meeting that needed held, nothing more.

Dudley could hear the scraping of chair legs moving. They must be standing up! He decided he'd better get back to class before the principal beat him to it. There was no way he was going to miss the principal yelling at his teacher! High tailing it down the hallway, he left a trail of water droplets behind him. When he opened the classroom door, the bizarre sight of his teacher tracing around his hand with chalk on the blackboard while all the little girls clapped delightedly, made him stop dead in his tracks.

"…and then, after you whinge incessantly until someone who is coordinated enough to correctly operate a pair of scissors cuts out the shape, you curl the paper fingers around a small hard cylindrical object such as a core of lead sheathed in wood - preferably one with the tip broken off so that you do not inadvertent poke your eye out… Ah, there you are Mister Dursley, welcome back. The class was beginning to speculate, that perhaps you had contracted an exotic malady and was in dire need of an ambulance. They were pressing me to send out a search and rescue team. Are you unwell?" Severus brushed the chalk dust off his fingers and scowled fiercely at the blond boy, making the otherwise solicitous question a challenge.

"Um… no, I'm good," Dudley said as he slid into his seat.

"That remains to be seen."

"Why's that?"

"Because you have not finished your assigned sentences, and as you elected to spend the majority of the afternoon allotment of class time elsewhere, you may be distressed to find yourself remaining after school once again. I do not believe the situation set well with you last time."

"But that's not fair!" Dudley clenched his fists and pounded his feet. "I'm hungry and if you make me stay after school I'll miss my snack again! And all I got for lunch was a ham and sardine sandwich and an - an appppple dipped in brown spicy mustard!"

"While your choice of condiments is distinctly anomalous, your culinary palate is not my dilemma." Severus held out a piece of chalk and nodded towards the front of the room.

Dudley's stomach rumbled loudly in response.

"Your dispute is duly noted," the teacher remarked dryly making all the children giggle.

Dudley glowered as he snatched the chalk and went back to writing on the board. Still, being a Dursley, Dudley didn't do anything, even unwillingly, unless he found a way to turn it to his advantage or at least have some fun with it. Too bad Dudley had forsaken legible penmanship in favour of scrawling the words just as fast as he possibly could, or his teacher might have learned something interesting. For in less than twenty lines, the sentence had morphed from - 'Making assumptions will make me an ass' into an expression of what he was currently wishing for - 'Maybe Auntie Lily will bake me a pie'.

Severus knew that Dudley wasn't writing what he had assigned him, as he counted an additional word that had snuck in. He debated about making the impudent child rewrite the sentences neatly, but as Dudley was accidentally doing more than required, he didn't press the point - as it would just condemn his self to afterschool duty to supervise him.

Although he was faintly curious as to what Dudley was really writing, and suspected it was a slam towards him (as it usually was with Dudley), upon further contemplation concluded that he didn't care to know - anymore than he cared to know why Dudley had returned to class with his left shoe and left pants leg dripping wet. The boy had clearly been up to something he shouldn't have been doing, but Severus had a foreboding feeling that he really didn't want the details.

His premonition confirmed correct when Principal Speer walked into the classroom as the final bell rang, and a smug know-it-all look bloomed on Dudley's not-quite-so-pudgy-since-he'd-been-on-the-Maurauder-healthy-diet-for-a-week face. If Severus had looked closer, he would have noticed Dudley's triumphant look faded with the last peal of the bell. Rats! The timing was not working in his favour. Now he had to choose between scribbling down the last dozen lines and following the class out the door, and writing as slow as he could so that he was still there to witness the principal yelling at his teacher.

Harry hesitated only a minute before he took the nest box out of his desk and shoved it deep into his book bag for safekeeping. On the way out of the room, he glanced guiltily over his shoulder at his cousin, who was now writing on the board with exaggerated slowness. He knew he was supposed to wait for Dudley, so that he wasn't walking home alone. Only he had no doubt that if the tables were turned, and he had to stay after school, that Dudley would leave without him in a heartbeat. Besides, the last time that Mr. Nathraichean had kept Dudley after school, he had made fun of him for saying that he had to wait for him to walk home.

'_So… what harm could it do… just this once?' _

The mass exodus of small bodies that were hurtling in the opposite direction nearly knocked Principal Speer over as he entered Jeff Nathraichean's classroom. He really couldn't blame the children, as to run screaming from the room was his own inclination whenever he had to address the grim unfriendly man. For the life of him, he could not remember why hiring him had seemed like such a wise idea – the one before him, with the sharp teeth and the hungry look in his eyes, was by far less intimidating.

"Oh there you are," the principal blustered. "I almost didn't see you for the mad dash."

"I hardly see myself as the madly dashing type either, so I will not hold you accountable." Severus replied offhandedly as he gazed over the portly man's head, preoccupied by the quickly disappearing back of one particular small boy.

'_Where is he going? He is supposed to wait for his cousin. If that brat goes and gets himself killed by Death Eaters, Dumbledore will have my head,'_ Severus thought vexed.

"I didn't mean it that way. I meant that I came to find you."

"Congratulations. As you have successfully completed your task, I grant you my permission to leave now." Severus dismissed him, in a hurry to close up the room so he could follow Harry to make sure nothing permanently lethal befell him on the way home.

Dudley snorted quietly in amusement when the principal actually did start to leave, before turning back around very red faced and flustered.

"_Your_ permission? My good man, I will not have you ordering me about! Let's get this straight - you are my employee, not the other way around!"

"Then what is it you want? As you can see…" Severus said with a curt sideways nod to indicate Dudley. "…I am busy."

"But you are always busy!"

"Then you should value me as an employee who does not waste your time, and leave me be to do my job. Mister Dursley there is no space in 'assumptions'. Write that line over." Severus snarled in his impatience to be rid of the both of them. Merlin only knew what trouble Potter would have found himself in by this time. He whole-heartedly agreed with Potter's keepers about that one thing - the boy needed constant supervision.

Dudley curled his lip in response as he erased the line with the sleeve of his jumper and then wrote it back in - identical to the original.

"Your job is the very thing about which I wanted to speak to you."

'_Is he getting fired?'_ Dudley wondered hopefully. If he was, then he didn't really need to finish all these sentences…

"What aspect do you wish to discuss - the pitiful lack of acumen in Little Whinging's future generations, or this school's appalling shortage of red pens? Keep writing Mister Dursley, you are not done yet. I only count ninety-two."

"Um… neither! Look here man I am paying for your time and I want your undivided attention!" Principal Speer finally demanded.

"So does your assistant," Severus returned dryly.

At the other man's blank look at the quip, Severus sighed resigned and moved over the vase of paper Easter lilies so he could perch on the edge of his desk. He didn't want to invite the principal to sit down for fear of the man never leaving. Folding his arms, he fixed his coal black eyes on the principal in an effort to put an end to the dialogue as soon as possible.

"You have my attention for the time being. However, I must point out that as the clock has struck three o'clock, you are now on my time and as such, you cannot reasonably expect me to remain at your beck and call. I am not your servant, despite how it may seem – you don't pay nearly enough for that."

Jeff Nathraichean's inhospitable actions and the intensity of his gaze, not only made Principal Speer immediately regret his request, but it also reminded him of what his assistant had been harping on earlier - about the new substitute teacher openly flouting his authority by not leading his class in an Arts and Crafts project as he had directed. That was certainly not an acceptable situation, and he had believed it true as the new teacher was the most contrary person he had ever met other than Mrs. Speer. Yet right there on Jeff Nathraichean's desk, as if to mock him, was a definite sign of such a happening taking place – cheerful little paper lilies in colourful Easter hues, and on the front blackboard were written step-by-step instructions along with drawn illustrations.

He fondly recalled making a bouquet of paper Easter lilies for his own mum when he himself was but a school aged lad. The idyllic memories downplayed the need to set off another unpleasant scene (as one would undoubtedly ensue) by bringing up the request from Mrs. Krueger - it could wait... after all, it wasn't as if she was school board member.

As far as lack of an Arts and Crafts project, Principal Speer touted himself to be a keen judge of character, so he placed all blame for the current misunderstanding on his assistant. It was obvious to him that Ms. Smythe had misjudged the man entirely. "I see you have some Easter lilies there. Did your children make them?" he asked pleasantly.

"I have no children." Severus said succinctly in a low monotone that made a shiver run up Dudley's spine. It made Dudley wondered what had happened to his teacher's children. Probably something very nasty… maybe they had misbehaved and he had fed them to a monster like the one that lived in his Auntie Lily's pantry.

"I meant your classroom."

"I was unaware that inanimate buildings could make paper flowers." Severus raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"_I meant - Did your student's make those for Arts and Crafts?"_ Principal Speer was becoming frustrated at how uncooperative the man was and mentally apologized to Ms. Smythe for doubting her judgment.

Dudley was quite impressed. It took him far longer to frustrate the principal.

"Why, yes _they_ did." Severus replied smoothly giving the man the answer he wanted, although it was misleading. He felt justified that he was not lying as Potter did say that Dursley had made the black ones, and both were his students. In addition, Principal Speer didn't ask specifically _where_ the Arts and Crafts had taken place. He was of the firm opinion that all Arts and Crafts should take place in the privacy of one's own home.

"Well that is fine then… I suppose." It took the principal aback. The answer was too quick, and too direct, coming from a man who had yet to answer him quickly and directly once, then never in words of one syllable. It made him not trust the answer.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"I believe I need confirmation." Principal Speer looked around and his eyes lit on the pudgy boy who was just writing the one hundredth sentence on the board. He knew the boy's parents, and that the entire lot of Dursley's would not hesitate to rat someone out.

"You there, boy, you're Vernon's son. Derby is it not?"

"No, it's Dudley. But everyone just calls me 'Big D'."

"Ah… well righty-o then Dustbin, which of these Easter lilies did you make?"

Principal Speer was certain that the boy hadn't made any of the flowers, as that was another thing that the Dursley's were well known for - a decided lack of creativity. When the child denied it, he would have ample grounds for firing Jeff Nathraichean. He made a mental note to have Ms. Smythe post an advertisement for a new substitute teacher first thing on the morrow.

Dudley had a hard time deciding between the fun of lying and getting his teacher into hot water, and taking credit for doing something of which he was secretly proud. Pride won out as it wasn't often he did anything to be proud of, whereas he was sure there would be lots of opportunities to get the teacher into trouble later.

"That's one of mine. See? It's the coolest because I made my hand look like the pantry monster before I traced around it," he said pointing at a misshapen blossom and then demonstrating what a pantry monster looked like by crossing his eyes, scrunching up his face, and pretending to scratch at the air with his hands clawed. To help complete the illustration Dudley's tummy let out a loud series of rumbling growls.

"A pantry monster? Ha-ha what a vivid imagination to be sure… ah… quite unusual... quite unusual."

"It's not imaginary! There's one in our panty. I know 'cause I've seen him and he tried to murder me last night!" Dudley exaggerated solemnly.

"How very melodramatic," Mr. Nathraichean commented dryly. "If you have seen this 'pantry monster', then you should be able to describe it in minute detail."

"Well… he was about twelve feet tall, and he had three glowing silver eyes, and I think he was purple… yeah definitely purple… with mouldy splotches... and he had fangs and claws and probably a knife too! And he was really hungry and if I hadn't have locked him in the pantry he would have eaten up everyone in the house!" Dudley's piggy eyes grew big and round as he thought about how terribly heroic he had been.

"Ah yes… the quintessential spotted purple people eater - they are not to be trifled with. As you are finished with the sentences, you should run along home and make sure you lock that pantry door tight. Once they get out, you never know where they might hide next. I hear they are partial to the nether regions under small boy's beds."

Mr. Nathraichean's lips curled into a slight sardonic smile when he said that, with just a hint of yellowish teeth showing. It was even scarier than the pantry monster.

Dudley didn't wait for a second invitation. Grabbing his rain slicker and wellingtons out of the classroom closet, he hopped out the door still putting them on his feet.

"If there is nothing else, I am really must be going." Severus all but pushed the principal out the door after Dudley, before he had a chance to say anything else.

"But I am not finished!"

"I am. Go away."

… _**click! ...**_

Principal Speer sputtered as the teacher shut the door in his face and then locked it. When he rapped firmly on the frosted plane of glass, the letter from Mrs. Krueger clutched in his hand, the lights in the classroom beyond flicked out. "Open up!" he yelled rattling the doorknob to no avail. "Confound you man! Open I say!"

"What seems to be the problem?" a musical voice asked behind him.

Turning on his heel, the principal came face-to-face with his worst nightmare… a mother who had requested he do something that he was responsible for doing… and that he had not done. He did so detest being on the spot like this, and by one of his former employees no less. It was just too bad he had already fired her for deciding to have a baby in the middle of a school year, or he would fire her again for aggravating him.

"Why nothing… nothing at all. And how are you this afternoon Rose?"

"I'm fine, just a little late for my appointment is all - had to wait for the babysitter to wake up. I came to talk with Mr. Nathraichean, as I wrote you that I wanted to do, and then to walk the boys home. Dudley ran past me on my way in, shouting something about the pantry, but Harry wasn't with him. Is he waiting in the classroom with his teacher?"

"I didn't see any children in there, other than young Dursley. And I do believe that Jeff Nathraichean is now… unavailable," he replied with a glance over his shoulder at the locked door. He thought there was something decidedly odd about a man skulking in a dark classroom alone and pretending not to be there – very childish in his opinion.

"But I asked you to have him wait for me!"

"It can't be helped. Jeff Nathraichean is… ah… a very…_**very**_…busy man, as am I. In fact, I am appalled, utterly appalled that you expect him to be at everyone's beck and call. Especially when you are…" Principal Speer glanced down at his wristwatch, "tsk tsk … and _entire_ six and a half minutes late."

"Six minutes is not that late!"

"...and a half." He shook his head in a disapproving way that made his jowls jiggle back and forth. "It is not as if he is a_ servant_ or something god-awful like that. Now I must be leaving too, so good day to you Ma'am."

Lily had a few alternate choice words of just what she thought Jeff Nathraichean was, but there was no point in shouting them after the departing principal, it wouldn't get her any closer to the coveted audience. Frustrated in her continual failed attempts, and more that a bit worried about where her son might be and what her nephew might be up to in the pantry, she left for home.

Dudley beat her by a good ten minutes as he ran the entire way even though he had no one to chase today. Flinging open the door to the flat, he dashed through the living room on his way into the kitchen, hurtling over Sirius who was lying on the rug playing 'put-anything-you-can-reach-in-your-mouth' with Holly - all without breaking his stride.

"Hey Dudster, those are some flying feet you have! Have you thought of trying out for soccer?" Sirius asked Dudley after scooping up Holly and following the boy into the next room to find him sitting on the floor, next to a chair he had propped under the pantry doorknob.

Dudley just gave him a withering glare as he was panting too heavily to talk, but not enough to drown out the scratching and moaning coming from the basement flat. The effects of the full moon were already prevalent on their resident werewolf.

"No? Okay self-development suggestions aside for a sec, do you mind me asking why the rush? And just where is kiddo? Lily told me she was going to pick you both up from school, is he with her?"

"If - _(huff huff) - _if you mean the dork I - _(huff) - _I don't know and I - _(huff) - _don't care."

"Harry's not a dork," Sirius corrected him.

"If he - _(huff) - _he's not a dork…then how - _(huff huff) - _how did you know who - _(huff) -_ who I was talking about?"

"Er… process of elimination? He's the only unaccounted for member of this family. Now, where did you lose him? Did you leave him tied to a tree somewhere? Or did your gang stuff him in a trash can?"

"Ha-ha! That sounds like fun! Thanks for the idea! But no - _(huff) -_ I had to stay after school and he took off without me when the bell rang. Should a' been here already."

"Well he isn't," Sirius said worriedly while he mentally slapped himself for giving Dudley new ideas about how to torture his godson.

"As Mr. Nathraichean says... _(huff) ..._that's not my lemon."

"Dudster! Not you too!"

"Me too what?"

"You too quoting that stick-in-the-mud teacher - that's what. You're supposed to be quoting me and Moony."

"But you never say anything cool."

Six little words were all it took to deflate Sirius' pride and momentarily distract him from the puzzle of his godson's whereabouts. "I don't? Never?"

"Nah… if I went around quoting you - my pals would think I was thirty years old!"

"Thirty? That old?"

"Practically geriatric."

Sirius frowned, of all words for Dudley to get right - why did it have to be that one.

"Here then…" he dangled the giggling Holly over Dudley lap and dropped her into it "…we geriatrics need to take our walks to keep limber. You take care of the rug-rat and I'll go find kiddo. By the way… she needs changed."

"But…!" Dudley sputtered but it was too late – Sirius was already out the front door and Holly had soaked Dudley's lap. He had to admit though - for an old guy, Uncle Siri could sure move fast, especially when a wet nappie was involved.

'…_goo...ga… doodoo?' _Holly cooed, taking fast hold of the front of Dudley's jumper with her tiny Velcro fingers.

"Don't you dare!" Dudley yelped holding her at arm's length.

Hitting the pavement on all fours, Padfoot took off towards the school before doing an abrupt one eighty practically in mid-air to head in the opposite direction. If Harry had been loitering anywhere between the school and the flat, Dudley wouldn't have been able to resist chasing him the rest of the way home. That meant he had to have gone past the building, and the only other place he knew of where Harry like go was the park.

Sure enough, as he galloped through the entrance Padfoot caught a faint trace of Harry's scent in the rain damp air. He also caught scent of something else - something indisputably nasty. There was only one thing he knew that smelled like that... he just couldn't remember what it was. He was sure of one thing though - someone else had recently been in the park with his pup!

Being uncharacteristically cautious, Padfoot skidded to a stop and ducked behind a shrub just inside the park's chain link fence. From this vantage point, he could survey the entire lot unseen. Other than the steady drum of the rain on the play equipment, nothing moved.

He didn't get it... where was the danger? More importantly... where was Harry?

Padfoot had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't caused by wolfing down the questionable tidbit he had scavenged out of a tipped over trash bin on his way to the park. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell Prongs that his Prongslet went missing on his watch. Prongs would have a hex fest and he wouldn't be able to do to defend himself without a wand.

It was at times like this that his anger over not having his own wand tended to get the best of his normally playful nature and he barred his teeth in a dangerous growl at the gloomy day around him. Come to think of it - why hadn't his so-called friends figured out a way to get him one yet? If he'd had a wand, he could have activated a locator spell to find Harry, but without one... how did they expect him to do anything? He couldn't protect a wet dishrag, let alone the kids! Did they think he had superpowers or something? What were they thinking? For that matter, what was he thinking? Perhaps he didn't have a super power but he did have a super sniffer...

Putting his massive black nose in the air, he inhaled deeply.

The rain had diluted all but the newest of the smells, so he was sure that whoever had been visiting the park had not been gone for long. Sniffing again, he was almost as sure that Harry's fresh little boy scent seemed oh so slightly newer than the musty stank of the malevolent phantom that hung heavy in the clammy air.

That minute difference gave him the sliver of hope he needed to keep searching.

Padfoot sniffed once more to make certain he couldn't detect anyone in the immediate vicinity and then put nose to the ground and started to track Harry's scent. He followed it in a meandering route around the park, first to one swing and then to another. After circling the merry-go-round twice and taking a loop under the monkey bars, the trail led towards the squat brick structure in the far corner of the park, which housed the public restrooms. The nearer he got to the building, the stronger Harry's scent grew.

Optimistic that not all was lost, Padfoot quit sniffing and started loping the building at full speed. Poking the door ajar with his nose, he peered into the cavern beyond. There were a lot of interesting smells in there, which the canine in him longed to investigate, but none of them belonged to his pup. Where did he lose the scent?

Padfoot backed out of the building, which was not exactly an easy feat for a dog built only for going forward. His irritation made him all that more impatient with himself for having to retrace his steps. Back at the last spot where he was positive he had the scent, he started sniffing around in increasing concentric circles until he picked back up the trail. On track once again, Padfoot forced himself to keep his nose glued to the ground until he had followed it out the far side of the park and into a small drainage tunnel where it bumped into the toes of a pair of very tatty trainers.

'_Woof! Woof! Woof!' _YAY! He'd found his pup! YAY! _'Woof! Woof! Woof!' _

Pure relief at finding Harry flooded through Padfoot's veins, mixed with the adrenaline already there, and then exploded into an uncontrollable licking fest.

"Cosmos! Stop! Stop! ...ha-ha-ha... Stop! Please... ha-ha... Stop! That hurts!" Padfoot immediately changed back into his human form, pulled Harry out of the tunnel by his ankles, and immediately started checking his limbs for miscellaneous bodily damage.

"Where does it hurt? Why did you come to the park by yourself? I know you know better than that - something could have happened to you and no one would have been here to protect you! What the heck got into you? Did you forget what your dad told you? Did someone scare you? Did anyone try to touch you? Don't you know you frightened your little sister to death? What did Dudley mean when he said I wasn't cool?"

"What?" Harry asked, puzzled by the barrage of questions, especially the last one.

"I mean... Merlin, Harry! You about gave me a heart attack and I am far too young for one of those! Why didn't you come straight home after school?"

"I'm sorry Uncle Siri I was just..."

"I don't want to hear 'sorry'! I want to know what you were thinking!" Sirius barked out. He had no idea where that came from. It sounded like something his own father would have said to him - in fact, it _was_ something his own father had said... more than once.

"I don't know..." Harry wasn't _exactly_ lying. He really didn't know what to think about what had just happened. He had been following a man with silver white hair when his teacher suddenly grabbed him from behind, dragged him out of the park, and shoved him into the tunnel. He had no idea who the man was, or why Mr. Nathraichean had done that.

"That does it young man! March! We're going home, and you better have it figured out before we get there – so think fast!" Sirius was fuming. The left over adrenaline was making him react like the responsible adult he normally wasn't, rather than as the fun pal that he preferred to be. He didn't like it one bit – it was a most uncomfortable feeling!

If Harry thought Uncle Siri was upset, it was nothing compared to his mum's reaction when Sirius dragged him in the front door.

"Where were you Harry? Dudley told me that you ran away! I've been sick with worry!" Lily plopped a clean sleepy Holly in Sirius' arms with orders to put her down for a nap and then pulled Harry to her bosom in a tight hug as if she would never let him go.

"…()…" Harry squished explanation came out a muffled jumble of incoherent syllables, "… (errrrrrcnnntbreeeee!)…"

"What sweetie?"

"I think he said he couldn't breathe." On his way into Lily's bedroom to put Holly in her crib, Sirius helpfully supplied the translation. Although he was not feeling particularly sympathetic towards Harry at the moment, he didn't want him to smother before he had a chance to pay him back with a brilliant prank for scaring several years off his life.

"Oh Harry!" Lily loosened her hold enough that he could gasp some air into his lungs and started scolding him. "Why did you run away? Did Dudley pick on you again?"

"Ha! As if I'd bother!" Dudley snorted his comment from the couch where he was thumbing through one of his favourite comics rather than doing his maths homework.

"No, Ma'am I didn't run away... I was just..."

"Then for Merlin's sake why didn't you wait for me?" For the past hour Lily had been imagining Harry hurt and lying in a ditch somewhere lost, and now hearing him call her 'Ma'am' again instead of 'Mummy' was just one stressor too many and made her question him in a brusquer tone than she had intended to use.

Harry hung his head. First, his teacher yelled at him for being in the park, then Uncle Siri for hiding, and now Mrs. Krueger! How much worse could it get? All he'd tried to do was exactly what Mr. Krueger had told him to do - watch out for strangers. In his opinion, the one he'd seen loitering outside their building was _very_ strange.

"Mr. Nathraichean told me to leave."

"No he didn't. He was too busy snarking at me." Dudley countered.

"He would have if I'd stayed!"

"But you didn't, and he didn't!" Dudley crowed back, delighted to rat on his cousin.

"Harry, when you do something wrong, please don't lie to me about it. If you own up to your mistakes, I promise I will do my best to understand and not judge. It's easier on both of us. You shouldn't have left by yourself. I know it can be hard following rules you don't understand, but we've told you it isn't safe for you to be alone, and we meant it."

"I'm not a baby," he replied thrusting out his chin and looking very much like his father.

He was feeling defensive - he had come straight home... kind of. It was just that as he got to the corner, he'd seen a suspicious man loitering across the street from their building. The man was pretending to read a paper, but was watching their flat over the top of the page. From the way he kept checking his pocket watch, he looked as if he were becoming impatient. Harry was very distrustful of impatient people. They tended to not like him. They had told him that Death Eaters could be looking for them, and it would be very bad for their family if they found them. This man had an unpleasant look on his face and Harry could quite imagine him biting the heads off from people.

As the man started to turn his way, Harry quickly dove behind a derelict car at the curb. After a few minutes, he peeped over the hood to check on what the man was doing, only to see him hurrying up the pavement in the opposite direction, his long black cloak fluttering behind him. The newspaper had disappeared and in its place was a silver-topped cane. He must have gotten tired of waiting for whatever or whomever he had been waiting for.

Harry knew he was strange because people dressed as the man was should not be in his neighbourhood! Harry knew this without a doubt, because whenever they had seen anyone similarly dressed in the past, his Uncle Vernon would point at them and announce with absolute authority that they didn't belong in Little Whinging. Harry also thought that he remembered seeing the same man when Cosmos had taken him to Gringotts. He hadn't gotten a good look at the man's face that night, but he remembered the light glinting off the top of his cane, and the long silver white hair was unmistakable. The man had been mean to the strange little big-eared creature with him, and something about seeing him so close to where his mum and little sister were, made Harry uneasy.

The man was walking at a steady clip when a cat, that looked remarkably like Tibbles (one of Mrs. Figg's furry companions), streaked in front of him. The man whipped out his cane, neatly caught it under the front legs, and tossed it out of his path. The surprised cat landed on its feet, took one look at the man, and streaked towards Wisteria Walk as if an entire pack of rabid dogs was chasing it. This was not good! Mrs. Figg's cats were a great judge of character.

The safety of his family was forefront in his mind when he decided that he'd better find out what the man was doing there. He also felt that if he took the time to alert anyone, he would miss seeing where he went. It turned out he didn't find out anyway, but if he'd know in advance that would be the outcome, he wouldn't have gone to begin with.

As it was, he followed the man to the play park, which was as far as they allowed him to go without an adult, when his path crossed with that of his teacher. His teacher seemed unappreciative of the fact that both Harry and the man, were in the park. He had shoved Harry in the pipe and told him to stay there while he talked to the man. While Harry had been glad enough to turn the mystery over to an adult, it still annoyed him. Because in the end, all he was trying to do was to protect his family to the best of his ability, but all he succeeded in doing was making people mad. Why couldn't he do just one thing right?

Lily looked her little boy in the eyes. No, he wasn't a baby. It showed in his eyes - they were far to grownup for the rest of his body. It saddened her that his childhood had died in Godric's Hollow when Voldemort had attacked. He had never had the chance to be a carefree little boy. Lily glanced over at her nephew enjoying his comic book and being exactly what he should be: a nine-year-old boy. Then she looked back to her son, who looked as if he was carrying the weight of the ages on his shoulders.

"Oh why can't you be more like Dudley?" Lily regretted her choice of words the moment they started tumbling out of her mouth, but it was too late - the look of betrayal was already in Harry's eyes.

"I… I'm sorry I'm disappointing you!"

"No Harry! That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?" he asked in a hurt tone.

"What else you dork? That I'm the good one and you're a..." Dudley started to butt in from the sidelines.

"Dudley! Hush!" Lily whirled on her nephew to cut him off.

"Harry, you're really not dis…" Lily turned back just in time to see Harry slamming his bedroom door so solidly behind him he might as well have posted a _'Keep Out – and this means you Mum!'_ sign on the outside. The rest of the apology died on her lips, as frustration took its place.

"Don't you slam your door in my face young man!" Lily rattled the doorknob. Only in her anxiety, she pulled instead of pushed so it didn't open. She assumed Harry had locked the door on her in his anger.

"You…you're grounded! Do you hear me Harry?" she shouted through the closed door. "Grounded! That means its early bedtime for you for - for a week! And no dinner tonight until you can come out and behave like a good boy!"

"Then I'll never come out!" Harry shouted back.

"You blew that big time," Sirius observed raising his eyebrows at her as the echoing reverberations dug a deep chasm between Harry's stronghold and his shocked mum. He had come back into the room after tucking Holly into her crib, just in time to hear Lily put her foot in her mouth. He was ashamed to admit it, but he was secretly glad to find out he wasn't the only one with that flexible agility.

"I'm a horrible mother! I don't deserve children!" Lily sobbed, running in the opposite direction and slamming the bathroom door behind her just as loudly as Harry had slammed his.

"Well, well, well..." Sirius stood alone in the middle of the room for a few minutes and then noticed Dudley hiding behind his comic and trying hard to be unnoticed. "It looks like it just you and me Dudster," he announced with a gleam in his eyes.

Dudley groaned loudly in protest.

Sirius chose to ignore it.

"All that to-do made me hungry. What say we start some dinner?"

"You mean you want me to help you… cook?" Dudley squeaked in shock and looked around wildly for somewhere to escape to that didn't already have someone in it.

Unfortunately, even expanded, the flat didn't have that many rooms. His only choices were up, out, or into the kitchen, and by the grin on Uncle Siri's face he knew he wasn't about to let him choose either of the first two. He sighed resignedly and stood up. He knew that look. He might as well get it over with, "Okay… but no eggs."

"No eggs? But they're so entertaining!"

"Definitely -_ no eggs_." Dudley asserted firmly as he followed him through the door.

The pair was still in the kitchen preparing dinner when James got home from work, or rather - Sirius was preparing dinner while Dudley sat at the scrubbed wood table telling him everything he was doing wrong.

"See! Now it's boiling over. I told you to use the pot and not the skillet."

"Okay so maybe you had a point with that one, but I still say you can never have enough garlic - keeps the vampires away." Sirius tasted the chilli thoughtfully that was boiling merrily on the burner. He tossed in another diced clove.

"Where is everyone?" James asked as he mentally made a note to take some antacid before dinner.

"Auntie Lily is crying in the bathroom, the stinkpot is dirtying her nappy somewhere, the dork is pouting about being grounded, and Uncle Remmy is still holed up downstairs hogging all the good food." Dudley listed accommodatingly.

"Don't call your cousins names, and why is your Aunt crying? Did something happen?"

"Nothing really… she just seems a might touchy," Sirius hedged. He still wasn't sure how James was going to feel when he found out he had temporary misplaced his son.

"Oh great that's all I need to round out the day. First, a whacked out customer in the shop, and now I come home to a whacked out wife. Can life get any better?" He ran his hand through his hair while estimating how long he could put off trying to deal with it.

"Um… if you don't want it to go downhill from here, I would avoid using the term 'whacked out' to Lils," Sirius advised using air quotes to emphasize.

"Right-o. So why is Harry grounded?"

"He yelled at Auntie Lily and slammed the door in her face!" Dudley gleefully supplied and then filled in with exaggerated details.

"Harry did all that? My Harry? Are you sure we're talking about the same boy?"

"The one and only," confirmed Sirius.

James sighed. He was positive he had at least four years left before he had to worry about teenage angst. It was tougher being a father than he remembered.

"And that's something you consider falls into the category of 'nothing really'?" Much to James frustration, Sirius just shrugged offering up a 'boys will be boys' explanation.

"I better talk with Lily first," he decided out loud. That way he'd know what he was up against when he went to talk with Harry, and wouldn't inadvertently contradict anything Lily might have said earlier.

"Good move," Sirius agreed giving his blessing as he stirred in a few more jalapenos.

"Thanks… I think." James wondered what else his friend wasn't telling him as he went to tap tentatively on the bathroom door, behind which he could hear Lily still sobbing.

"Lily? Honey? Can I come in?"

In answer, the door swung open and a tearful Lily fell into his arms. He swept her up and carried her to the big comfy chair to cuddle.

"Oh James! I am a horrible mother! You should divorce me!"

"No way are you getting off that easy. Besides, you're not a horrible mother. At least not from where I sit," James declared. "I think you're a great mother. Of course I could be slightly partial since it's my children's mother were talking about. Now why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

"My baby hates me…"

"No she doesn't. Holly loves you."

"My other baby…"

"Who? Little no-name here?" James teased patting her still very flat tummy. "Causing trouble already is he?"

"No, not her," Lily gave a weak laugh at his obvious preference. "You know who I'm talking about... our first born. The one I can't get through to."

"Harry? He loves you too."

"I'm not so sure about that James…"

"Why don't you think so?"

"He... he... called me 'Ma'am' again!" Lily choked out as a tear rolled down her cheek. "It's better than Mrs. Krueger, but... _Ma'am? _It's as if I were a... a total stranger!"

"And what did you do?" James asked brushing the tear away with a gentle kiss.

"I said I wished he was like Dudley."

"Well that is being horrible."

"James!"

"What? I thought you wanted me to agree with you!"

"Not about that! I didn't mean it the way it came out at all! I just meant that I wished he'd be… oh, I don't know - less of a forty-year-old grownup and more of a nine-year-old child. I just want him to be my baby again and to need me to be his mummy, instead of acting older than I am."

"So what can I do to help?"

"I… I want you to tell me that it will be all right."

"It'll be all right," he repeated rubbing calming circles on her back.

"And I want you to tell me that we didn't wake up too late, and we'll get our baby back."

"I promise we'll get him back."

"Really?"

"Really."

"When?"

"Er…soon?"

"How soon?"

"Er…" James was starting to feel very much on the spot, "I don't know… maybe in a day or two? ...or three? Four on the outside. Definitely no more than a week."

"What about tonight?"

"Er... I don't know if I can promise tonight... why?"

"Harry's locked himself in his room. It's my fault. Now you have to make him open it."

"I do? Are you sure? Is that another rule in one of those parenting pamphlets the counsellor gave us that I didn't read?"

"I have no idea, I didn't read them either. Nonetheless, I'm sure. He won't open it for me and he has to eat. I don't want him to go to bed hungry."

"See? I was right. A horrible mother wouldn't care about a little thing like that."

"No she wouldn't… would she?" Lily sniffled and blew her nose into a hanky James produced from his pocket.

"Definitely not. A horrible mother would probably eat his dinner and let him starve."

"Yes she would, pudding included." Lily agreed dabbing away her tears with a dry corner, a wistful smile finally playing on her lips. "Will you go talk with him Jimmy? I- I don't think I'm very welcome right now… besides, I hear Holly waking up."

"Of course I will Rosie-Posy. You go take care of our daughter, and I will take care of our son. His and hers! Divide and conquer!"

"You make it sound as if we're going to war."

"Don't kid yourself my love - we are." James pushed her off from his lap with a chuckle.

..._Knock! Knock! ..._ James rapped authoritatively on Harry's bedroom door.

"Who's there?" a tearful voice answered.

"Your father," James tried not to sound so impatient from the get go, but really...

"_My_ father who…?" Surprised anyone was still claiming him, he didn't finish the thought.

"This is _not_ a joking matter young man! Unlock your door right now!" James pulled out his wand and aimed it at the door. It was his own home and he did not intend to resort to going through the window, as had Moony and Padfoot. "You have until the count of ten and you won't want to know what happens if I get to ten!"

"One!"

'_When did I start sounding just like Sirius' father?' _James wondered ruefully. His own father and mother had had him late in their lives and doted on him - with a few rare exceptions when he did something so outlandish that they felt compelled to call him on it for the sake of public safety. Sirius' parents were another matter. Orion Black was always counting to ten with veiled threats of indescribable terrors descending upon their tender young heads if he completed the task before Sirius and his friends caved in. James had vowed that if he ever became a father himself he would never do that to his children. Yet here he was... counting...

"Two!"

'_This had better work…'_

"Three!"

_...or I'll never hear the end of it…'_

"Four!"

'_I can hear them laughing at me now…'_

"Five!"

'_When we were boys - we always gave in by five...' _

"Six!"

'_We never wanted to find out what would happen if Sirius' father got to ten...'_

"Seven!"

'_... ten? That's a laugh! He started cursing at six and never stopped till sundown!'_

"Eight!"

'_C'mon son…open!… … … … …pretty please for your old man?'_

"Nine!"

'_He had to have gotten his stubborn streak from his mother… sure didn't get it from me.'_

"Ten!"

…_turn… swing… 'Wait a minute – the knob turned? I didn't hear him unlock it!'_

"Harry? Why did you lock me out?" James stepped in and his eyes swept the room. He spotted Harry sitting in the farthest corner from the door on the floor, back to the wall, with his book bag on his lap, hugging it for all he was worth. He looked small and forlorn, as if he hadn't a friend in the world. James wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting to find after hearing he had been acting up, but this wasn't it.

Harry pulled off his glasses and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It wasn't locked. You never put one on the door so I could."

"Oh…" James looked back at the door and realized it was true "… so I didn't. Well that was smart of me."

Harry took that as an acknowledgement that wasn't to be trusted, while James only meant that he was the idiot for not remembering to do it after he'd promised. From the fleeting look that crossed his son's face, James knew he'd just said something wrong but he couldn't fathom what it might have been so he went over and sat down on the floor next to him. Leaning back against the wall he got as comfortable as he could knowing that Harry was not going to be as easy to cheer up as had been Lily.

"So… what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Just hanging out then?"

Harry shrugged.

"Have a good day at school?"

Another shrug.

"Do anything fun?"

"Not really."

"Is your teacher still giving you problems?"

"He's okay."

"Glad to hear it."

Well that went nowhere. Harry was being tougher than usual. James was stymied. He was tired after a long day at work and had been looking forward to coming home and relaxing. The last thing he wanted was to deliver a lecture, or to engage in a battle of wills. He looked around to find something to spark the start of a conversation.

"Got a book bag there I see..."

"It's mine." Harry hugged it tighter to his chest keep it out of reach. Normally whenever anyone showed interest in something he had, it was because they wanted to take it away from him. The egg was in his book bag and he wasn't about to give up his only chance to keep his family - whether they regretted giving him that chance or not.

"So it is… um… got anything good inside it? Can I take a look?" James asked trying to figure out something to say to break the ice. He got just the opposite effect.

"It's mine too." Harry hugged his bag even harder.

"Whoa! Hold on there a sec champ, I wasn't saying it wasn't!" James berated himself mentally - maybe he really should have read some of those parenting pamphlets, as he just seemed to be making matters worse with everything he said. Only he'd promised Lily to get Harry out of his room for dinner so he wasn't going to give up.

Harry was puzzled. Mr. Krueger was bigger than he was - if he'd wanted to take the egg back he could have easy. He hadn't really even tried hard! All he'd done was to come in and start chatting as if he'd done nothing wrong. That was something he really wasn't use to happening. Maybe he was trying to trick him.

After the way he'd acted up earlier, he had been expecting a week's confinement, breakfast rations only, and a few wallops to his backside to teach him a lesson. That would have been his minimum sentence at Privet Drive. Mr. Krueger was in much better shape than Uncle Vernon was – it would probably sting harder. Thinking about how sore his bum would be when it was over, Harry pressed himself further into the corner.

"Oh? Am I crowding you? Here let me take care of that." James had noticed the slight increase in distance that Harry had put between them, and edged over to reclose the gap. Now they were sitting thigh to thigh with Harry squished into the corner with nowhere else to move. The only way James could have gotten any closer would have been to pull Harry onto his lap. Except that Harry's body language was giving him the suspicion that it would be an extremely bad move on his part. "There – isn't that cosier?"

Harry nervously rubbed the toes of his trainers together.

"Um… nice shoes champ."

Harry's feet suddenly went very still so as not to draw any more attention to them.

"Going in for the new 'grunge' look, are you?"

"The what?" Harry knew his trainers looked tatty, and his hair was just as messy as ever, but he didn't think that the rest of him looked grungy. He'd been taking regular baths and had been taking very good care of all the new clothes the Kruegers had bought him. He hoped if he did a good enough job of it, that they might think it wouldn't be too big a waste of money to buy him the new pair of shoes they had promised.

"You know… duct taped shoes, safety pins, chains, rips, punk, heavy metal… _rock-n-roll_?" James grinned at him, trying to pull Harry into the lop-sided conversation.

"If you say so." Harry agreed doubtfully.

He hated it when people laughed at his trainers, and it now sounded as though Mr. Krueger thought the ones he had on were good enough to keep wearing indefinitely. Maybe Mr. Nathraichean would hire him to stay after school and clean the classroom. If he would, then he could buy his own shoes.

"Hey! I got a great idea! If you're interested in music, maybe we could go to a concert together. Would you like that?"

"Er... no thanks Sir." There was no way was he going to be tricked like that into voluntarily being embarrassed in public again!

"Are you sure? It'd be a lot of fun!" James coaxed.

"Please don't make me..." Harry whispered fearfully as if it would be pure torture, for in his experience things like that was only fun for everyone else - not for him.

The last time anyone invited him to go somewhere similar it had been the Dursleys doing the inviting. Their idea of going somewhere 'together' was to buy advance premium tickets for themselves and Dudley in the front row, and him the cheapest single ticket they could buy from a ticket scalper in front of the theatre. His relatives said that they hadn't bought him one earlier as they had intended to leave him with Mrs. Figg, only problem was that they had forgotten to arrange that with her. When they had tried to drop him off and found her inconveniently away, they were forced to invite him along.

Come to think of it - 'invited' probably wasn't the best description. When Mrs. Figg failed to answer either her front or back door, they had reluctantly given him the 'choice' of either staying home alone or going with them. Much to their dismay, he opted for going. However it came about, there he was with a ticket of his very own to a show in his hand!

He had been so excited until Uncle Vernon told him that to 'pay them back' for his unexpected added expense, they expected him to watch for them to signal him from their extra wide plushy seats with the built-in cup holders. When they did, Uncle Vernon expect him to run down four flights of stairs from the nosebleed section, crawl down the aisle (so as not to block anyone's view), find out what they wanted, crawl back up the aisle then stand in line at the snack bar to fill their order. He was to then take their treats back to them, serve them without spilling anything, wait while Uncle Vernon verified he had turned over all the change, and then run back up the four flights to his own seat.

The curtain hadn't even gone up when Harry saw Uncle Vernon snapping his fingers in the air the first time. He did all he had been asked to, just in time to do it all over again for Aunt Petunia. As he never got to sit down and enjoy the show, he supposed it didn't matter that the seat they had purchased for him was behind a pillar and someone had spilled something sticky all over it. The only unsticky spot to perch was the front edge.

The worst part of it wasn't the uncomfortable seat, or even the running to his relatives' beck and call throughout the show, it was that several of his classmates witnessed it. He still hadn't lived it down and quite often in the lunchroom, one of Dudley's gang would snap his fingers at him and everyone would burst out laughing. It was humiliating.

James was miffed at how quickly Harry turned down his offer - why he had hardly even thought about it! What kid wouldn't like going to see a rock band even if it was with their old man? He could be loads of fun - just ask Padfoot or Moony! They had raised a few roofs in their day. He could see them coming home with matching father and son headbands, t-shirts, and maybe even matching pierced eyebrows! He'd always fancied one of those. Although… if he put a hole in Harry's head Lily would have his on a platter.

Fine, if Harry didn't want James to be his pal, then James would just have to resort to being his father. He supposed it was time to get it over with as he was getting hungry.

"So… I hear you slammed the door and yelled at your mum."

Harry braced himself. This was it - Mr. Krueger's real reason for coming in. He'd been sitting in his room all afternoon regretting his temper tantrum and dreading the outcome.

"That wasn't a respectful thing to do. Being upset is no excuse for bad behaviour - for either a child or an adult. Your mother is sorry for her reaction, how about you?"

"I- I'm sorry too…"

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now, do you know why it was your mum was upset?"

"Yes. She - she said she wished I were more like Dudley."

"Yeah... I heard about that. You know she didn't mean it the way it sounded. She just meant that she wished you could... er... relax more. Yeah! That's it - relax. Have a little fun occasionally and quit taking everything so seriously. Let us worry about being the grownups and you just worry about being a kid. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

Oh yes, Harry understood _completely_. Except that he didn't understand is why it was that Mr. Krueger thought it was any different from what he understood before. He already knew that the Krueger's considered Dudley to be as perfect as a boy could be, and that he should act like him. Only Dudley thought everything that caught his eye was there for him to enjoy, whether it belonged to him or not. With an attitude such as that, no wonder he had fun. In addition, Dudley never had to take anything seriously, because wasn't punished for anything he did wrong – Harry was in his place.

"Then will you try?"

"Yes Sir." When Mrs. Krueger had declared that he couldn't come out until he acted like good boy, it had made him feel ill. When he had tried to be a Dudley before, he hadn't liked it at all. However, if it would make the Kruegers happier with him, he would try again to act like Dudley. If it were within his power, he'd do anything they wanted him to, even if they didn't want to keep him. To be fair, he had to admit when he tried before, that he hadn't tried as hard as he could have. Neither his teacher, nor Salazar would have been impressed with him giving up so easily. Apparently, neither was the Kruegers.

"Right-o! That's my boy! Now what about you?"

"Me? What about me?"

"That's what I want to know. The way I see it, something was bothering your mum to make her act the way she did, so something was probably bothering you too - it didn't just come out of the blue. So what happened? Was it Dudley again?"

Harry cocked his head quizzically at his dad and considered blurting out the whole story about the man he'd followed and his teacher stopping him. Only it seemed that every time he had opened his mouth about it, the situation got worse. First, he had tried to explain to his teacher, but he had just yelled at him and ordered him out of the park. Then he had tried to explain to Uncle Siri, and he had yelled at him and not only did he renewed the park ban, but he added that couldn't even leave the flat without being chained to someone! Then he had tried to explain to Mrs. Krueger, and she had yelled at him and said not only could he not leave the flat - he couldn't even leave his bedroom!

He dug at his big toe through the hole in his trainer and thought some more. What if he tried to explain to Mr. Krueger and all he did was to yell at him as everyone else had? What would Mr. Krueger do to him then? Stupid question! What did he think he'd do? It wasn't as if they had anywhere left to exile him to other than Privet Drive.

James could tell his son was wrestling with a weighty problem. He just hoped he'd confide in him, without him resorting to dragging it out of him. Of course, he was always willing to try it that way too. When Harry glanced up his way, he tried to smile at him reassuringly, doing his best to emulate Remus' patented unassuming yet empathetic look – the one guaranteed to put people at ease, build rapport, and encourage perfect strangers to spill their guts without even questioning why they were doing it.

Harry look back down quickly, and worried his lip. Mr. Krueger was smiling again. It was unnerving how much Mr. Krueger was always smiling at him because he did it just as much as Uncle Vernon had always scowled at him. In Harry's book, too much any anything always meant trouble.

Seeing his son biting his lip caused James to second-guess his tactic. He cursed Remus under his breath, although his current 'foot-in-mouth' circumstance was far from Remus' fault. Drat him anyway! His friend was always so successful with his humble approached to people he had thought it worth a try. All he wanted was one tiny breakthrough in his relationship with his son. But… how? James decided he would be more successful by just being himself and flashed Harry a broad confident grin.

Harry's eyes got big.

James ran his fingers through his hair and wondered if he shouldn't turn it up another notch. He flashed Harry an even wider grin and threw in a jovial pat on his nearest knee for good measure to show his support for him with whatever was weighing on his mind.

Harry's eyes got bigger.

Mr. Krueger was acting maniacal - the topic of Mr. Nathraichean's vocabulary lecture that morning. Mr. Nathraichean had said to watch out for people who switched back and forth between personalities at a drop of a hat, or who were overenthusiastic when the situation didn't call for it. He said that it was a sure sign that they were either unbalanced or up to something. He also said to be leery of anyone giving away something for nothing – as there was always a price to pay. He warned that the more enticing the gift, the higher the price you would end up paying. Then he said something about old men with long white beards being notorious for forgetting to disclose all of the hidden costs.

That part of the lecture had made no sense to Harry, but now as he stared at Mr. Krueger's chin from his close vantage point he could see that the day's growth of beard had a few white hairs sprinkled in among the jet-black ones. How did Mr. Nathraichean know they were there?

It was a trifle disconcerting to think that his teacher was calling his wonderful dad a maniac, but then his teacher always seemed so sure of everything, and Mr. Krueger didn't seem sure of much at all. Harry swallowed hard and thought quickly about what he should do. His teacher had advised that whenever trapped in a situation with a maniac that you should 'placate and vacate'. In other words – pretend to play along with what they want and then get away from them as quickly as possible.

Harry put on his best fake agreeable face, the same one he always used when Aunt Petunia ordered him to clean Dudley's room for him, and then cautiously patted Mr. Krueger's nearest knee in a return gesture.

"Thank you Sir for being concerned about me, but Dudley didn't do anything. I guess – I guess I was just having a bad day. I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

James glanced at his son incredulously. He wasn't buying it for a second but it was obvious that Harry wasn't comfortable enough with him yet to confide in him what had really happened. James sighed and ran both hands through his hair this time.

"Okay Son – we'll go with that for now, but next time let's see if you can't throw in a little more detail? Deal?"

"Deal," Harry agreed. He was just relieved the inquest was over.

"Then let's go get some dinner. That chilli is starting to smell mighty fine!" James got up and pulled Harry to his feet. "Oh and one more thing... I've talked to you about this twice before and this time I mean it, no more 'Sir' and 'Ma'am'. While I appreciate you being polite and respectful, it's upsetting your mother. So please don't do it anymore. Okay?"

"Okay..." Harry nodded with a small defeated sigh.

James smiled broadly when Harry made the promise and enveloped him in a hug. Strolling out the room whistling he was proud of the progress, albeit small, that he had made. Not only was he a fantastic husband, he was a super fantastic dad! All problems solved in a jiffy! He didn't need any old stupid parenting pamphlets! He was a natural!

"... Mr. Krueger," Harry finished in a very small voice when his dad was out of earshot. He'd been hoping that no one would notice when he dropped the 'Mister' and 'Missus' and went back to 'Sir' and 'Ma'am'. All he had wanted was one tiny breakthrough in his relationship with his parents. Now he guessed he was back to square one on that too. Rolling his shoulders to get rid of the kinks, he cricked his neck to the left, then to the right. He then took a deep breath and strode out of the room as confidently as he could for someone about to act like a Dudley against all his better judgment.

"I told you so! I told you so!" Dudley's smug singsong voice floated out of the kitchen, bobbing on the stream of ticked-off words spewing forth from Uncle Siri. Both voices were coming out of the dangerously thick billow of acrid smelling smoke that was filling the flat.

"Why don't you tell me again? I missed it the first fifty-seven times," Sirius said annoyed.

"I told you so!" Dudley crowed obligingly.

"Fine - quit telling me and show me instead. I am obviously a visual learner," Sirius snarked and thrust the spatula into his charge's hand at the same time he hauled him off from his chair by his collar and pushed him not-so-gently towards the stove. Giving James and Harry a big wink as they came in, Sirius plopped down in the now vacant seat, tipped the chair back on two legs and crossed his ankles on the edge of the table.

"I'm watching. Go ahead - inspire me," he drawled, waving his hand in the air as if he were a royal prince delivering a command. Dudley harrumphed and lumbered to the stove. Taking the place Sirius had just vacated he turned his back to the crowd at the table, discarded the spatula, and picked up a long handled slotted spoon instead.

Harry could hardly believe what he was seeing. Was Dudley really going to… cook?

"It's all in the wrist. See? This is what I mean." Dudley expertly flipped a corn fritter in the hot oil at just the right time for it to come out golden brown and fluffy, instead of a hard black lump of charcoal, like the ones filling the platter that Sirius had cooked. If there was one thing that Dudley gave his undivided attention to – it was food.

"I think I need to see it again - didn't quite get it." Sirius teased.

Dudley sighed and made another.

"Once more - James was in my way right when you flipped that one. I could only see your elbow." By the time Sirius ran out of excuses, Dudley had cooked a dish full of the homey warm biscuits, enough for everyone to eat with the zesty chilli that was bubbling away on the back burner.

"Harry – could you tell your mother and sister that dinner is ready?" James asked as he started setting the table with thick white earthenware bowls.

Harry blinked but other than that, he didn't move. His stomach was so tied up in knots that he felt that if he did - he'd sick up.

"Harry, I asked you to get your mum and sis," James prodded adding spoons next.

Harry sighed. He _had_ promised to be trying. Without getting up, he took a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs: _"__**GIRLS! DINNER'S ON! HURRY IT!"**_

Two sets of shocked eyes belonging to James and Sirius turned disbelievingly on Harry. Dudley wasn't shocked. He had always known his cousin was a freak.

"What's going on? What is all the shouting about?" Lily asked coming in with Holly balanced on her hip.

"I'm not quite sure…" James had his eyes still locked on his son, who was slouching down in his chair with a nauseated expression on his face, "… but I am sure it won't happen again. _Will it Son?_" he asked pointedly.

"No Sir. Er… Mr. Krueger." Harry was miserable knowing he was lying through his teeth.

As soon as his cousin placed the platter of fritters on the table at his own place and prepared to sit down to devour them, Harry reached over and pulled them away from him before he could and started stuffing the hot bits into his mouth in rapid succession. His eyes stung with tears from the mouth burns he was receiving from beads of hot oil that were still clinging to the hot bread, but still he persevered in his desperation.

"Hey! Cut it out! Those are mine! I cooked them!" Dudley yelled in dismay as he saw his fledgling culinary efforts gobbled down before his eyes.

"Whoa! Hold up there pup – save some for me. I worked hard for those!" Sirius tried to pull the platter away from Harry but backed off when Harry rudely batted his hand away.

"Harry – I believe those were intended for all of us. It is only polite to share – pass the platter to your godfather as he asked," Lily instructed gently.

"NO! I WON'T!" Harry squealed as loudly as he could with his mouth stuffed with food.

"Harry! What in Merlin's name has gotten into you?" Lily asked stunned.

"Nothing! I'm just taking what's mine! They're all mine! Nobody can have any but me!" Harry announced loudly in his best Dudley-the-shining-example-of-boyhood-perfection imitation that he could muster.

"Harry! We do _NOT_ behave like that at the dinner table!" James was tired, fed up, and completely out of patience.

"Maybe _**we**_ don't, but _**he **_…" Harry stood up, holding onto the edge of the table to steady the overwhelming forces fighting for control of his emotions. He was tired, fed up, and out of patience himself. He didn't understand – why was everything today going horribly wrong? He was only doing what everyone kept telling him to do - act just like Dudley normally did… except for at this very moment Dudley was smiling sweetly and passing the ladle to the pot of chilli courteously to Uncle Siri. Dudley was... he was being _polite!_

"ARRRGHH! MAKE. UP. YOUR. MIND!" Harry yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration with both hands.

Dudley smirked and stuck out his tongue at his cousin.

"_I HAVE MADE UP MY MIND YOUNG MAN - GO TO YOUR ROOM!"_ James roared.

"_But that's not fair! I was just..."_

"It's not up for debate! Move it! NOW!" James commanded.

Harry choked on a sob, turned on his heels, and ran - slamming the bedroom door behind him for the second time in one day.

In the silence after the reverberation melted away, Dudley 'tsked-tsked' and shook his head knowingly. Some people can handle being a brat, and some can't. Then there are some, such as his freaky little cousin, who should stick to what he knows and not try to move into Dudley Dursley territory. Didn't he know you should never throw a tantrum at dinner until _after_ they serve the pudding? Dudley helped himself to Harry's portion.

"Wow James... you sounded just like my old man there. Kind of creeps me out."

"So sorry Padfoot." James growled grimly, ashamed at losing his temper.

One by one James, Lily, and Sirius all visited Harry in his bedroom to try and talk with him, but none of them got more than a cold shoulder and a hurt glare. Even the little egg vibrating happy thoughts it's hardest through its patchwork shell, made nary a dent in his gloomy sulk. At a loss for what else to try, James and Lily finally decided to see if a good night's sleep would get rid of the petulant doppelganger currently in possession of their son's body. Tucking him in, they both secretly slipped an apple under his pillow without the other one seeing them do it - neither one wanting Harry to go hungry.

"What did we do wrong Jimmy?" Lily asked a little while later after the rest of the household had retired for the night.

"Merlin help me Rosie-Posy, I have no clue." James replied baffled. He really didn't know. He was so positive that he had made some headway with Harry during their talk before dinner. "Maybe things will make more sense in the morning. This day was strange all around - it wasn't just Harry."

"That reminds me Jimmy - I never did ask you how your day went… so how did it go?"

James was a little mollified by the question. Talking about his day with Lily when he got home had always made working at a muggle job, where he was unable to use magic, more bearable. This day he had a particularly odd customer and he had been looking forward to Lily showering some of her special brand of sympathy on him, but he forgot all that when he arrived home in the middle of Lily's very difficult day.

"It was a bit of a weird one," James told her.

"Weird? Weird how? What happened? Why don't you tell your Rosie-Posy all about it...?" Lily asked nestling down into her favourite spot under the crook of his arm.

"Well, do you remember that woman who worked in the office at the school?"

"Virgie Smythe?"

"Yeah... that's the one."

"What about her?"

"She came into the store late this afternoon, right as I was about to clock out, and Dave made me wait on her first. It seems the nearer I get to the end of my two week notice period, the more my boss is taking advantage by shoving all the more difficult customers my way, " James observed.

"Difficult? Virgie? I never thought of Virgie as particularly difficult."

"Okay so not 'difficult', but you have to admit she is a peculiar duck."

"That I will agree to," Lily laughed. "So what was our Virgie up to today?" Lily was glad to take her mind off from her concerns about Harry for a few minutes with a little gossip.

"She wanted hair dye."

"Aha! I knew that platinum blond came out of a bottle!" Lily crowed. "And she always claimed she was a 'natural'."

"That wasn't the shade she was looking for..."

"Not platinum blond? Really? Well that does surprise me. Maybe she just feeling a little down, and wanted to treat herself to a fresh new look," Lily suggested.

"That's what was so peculiar - she didn't want just any new look - she wanted your look."

"My look? What do you mean?" Intrigued, Lily propped herself up on one elbow so she could see what was written on James' face that he wasn't telling her in words.

"She wanted red hair dye."

"I hate to break it to you Jimmy, but I am not the only redhead in the world."

"The only one that counts, but no I'm serious - she didn't want just any normal shade of red or my boss could have dealt with it. No, she insisted on having one that would give her the exact colour 'of a Tahitian sunset reflected on the ocean in a ribbon of burning glory after a tropical storm'."

"Is that what my hair looks like? A ribbon of burning glory?" Lily asked amused.

"Of course, only I would have added a few words like vibrant and unforgettable."

"But it doesn't make any sense... are you sure Virgie was describing my hair colour?"

"Hey - even Dave thought so - that's why he sent her my way. He thought I'd know what shade you used."

"_What shade I use_? He thinks I dye my hair? And you let him?" Outraged Lily thumped James in the chest with a pillow.

"Don't worry I set him straight after she left! I told him that fire like yours could never come from a bottle."

"What do you mean by_ 'after' _she left?" Lily asked suspiciously with narrowed eyes.

"You don't expect that I told him that in front of the paying customer? Her, I told that you used colour number sixteen."

"You didn't!" Lily gasped.

"You didn't want me to lose a sale did you?"

"I guess not," Lily agreed unhappily.

"As it was, it turned out to be a pretty good sale. I also unloaded more of those sherbet lemons off on her."

"I thought you sold all of those last week to that nasty man who wanted you fired."

"I found one more crate. Ha-ha! I had used it to prop open the stockroom door."

"But why in the world would Virgie want to buy any of those?"

"Well... Gina the cashier seems to think that the customer who bought the rest of the cases also works at the school. Ha-ha! She said she saw him last week yelling at the kids for playing on the playground when she went to pick up her nephew. So while I was ringing up the sale to Virgie I mentioned him to her to see if she knew who he was."

"Did she say?"

"No. When Gina described the man to her, she got too excited to make any sense. Then talk about not making sense - she insisted on purchasing whatever it was he had bought when he came in. So I sold her the entire crate," he ended with satisfaction.

"What do you think she's going to do with all those little petrified lumps of sugar?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I'm just glad they are all finally gone."

"Oh no! What if she gives them out to the kids at the school?" Lily gasped sitting upright in bed at the thought.

"What if she does?" James shrugged.

"The boys! They'll break their teeth on them!"

"No problem. We'll just tell them they aren't allowed to eat Sherbet Lemons."

Lily shook her head. "That might work with Harry, but not Dudley."

"Dudley won't be our problem for much longer - let Vernon worry about the dental bills."

"Really? You think your plan will work and you'll be able to get Petunia out of trouble?"

"Really. I promise on..." James glanced around in the darkened room for something convincing to make a pledge on just as the room flooded with light through the window as the moon broke through the storm clouds. "...on the full moon. Just as sure as its fullness will have decreased by this weekend, the full Marauder's Mansion will have also decreased its number of residents by one."

"Oh James... I love you," Lily sighed happily snuggling back down into her favourite warm spot. "Thank you for taking care of my sister and her family."

"There's nothing I won't do for you my sweet, even put up with your family. It's my mission in life to keep you happy."

"And I am... or at least I will be, except ..."

"Except?"

"Well... you haven't found Sev yet. Have you?"

"I'm getting close," James said through gritted teeth. How that man was able to keep coming between them, even when he wasn't anywhere around, was becoming downright annoying.

"You are? Oh, thank you Jimmm...myyy... I can't waiii - wait to see him again...," Lily yawned and started snoring lightly into James' chest.

"You're welcome Rosie - and I am getting close... close to not knowing where else to look that is." James admitted to his sleeping wife, kissing her forehead tenderly.

He had exhausted every lead he'd come up with, and turned over every rock large enough to hide a full-grown man, and several too small. If Severus Snape was out there, he didn't want anyone to find him, least of all not James Potter.


	15. A Patchwork Egg: part 10

Sleepless, James laid wide-awake for hours with Lily curled up next to him. He had promised her so much and it was beginning to look as though he wasn't going to be able to deliver on some of those promises. He couldn't find Snape for her, and he couldn't seem to win back their son's heart either. Right now, he didn't feel as though he was much good for anything. The thought of disappointing the love of his life kept him staring at the full moon for hours as it skirted in and out of the rain clouds.

Too bad their bedroom was on the street side of the building, for on the opposite side in the alleyway behind, Severus Snape at that very moment was standing in a pool of moonlight so that he had enough light to quickly jot down a note.

The headmaster's phoenix, Fawkes, had arrived earlier that evening with a request for him to reassess the other inhabitants of the building, stating that his neighbourhood envoy, had alerted him to a possible threat to the Boy-who-lived-upstairs' safety.

Severus studied the flickering lights of the basement flat through narrowed eyes.

He already knew the Dursley boy lived on the upper level, and Potter on first. That only left the basement flat inhabitant over which to worry. In all the weeks in which he had been watching the building, he had yet to spy the lower level occupant. However, that didn't prevent him from using his finely honed spy skills to make some astute assumptions based on his own highly evolved common sense.

As there was a single window, the flat could only be a small one bedroom. Based on that evidence he surmised a single occupant. From the bit of heavy floral brocade drape that he could see from the outside of the window, he believed that occupant to be older and female. He couldn't image a man putting up with such a ghastly tapestry, even if it were a rental. Lastly, as the woman never came out, and yet there were numerous odd noises emanating from within her walls - he concluded that she was even more addicted to that muggle monstrosity called a television than was the Dursley boy. Lastly, as she ran it with the volume on high - she was most likely deaf.

He knew all he needed to know with just a few keen observations, making this latest request of the Headmaster just another timewaster as far as he was concerned. His only hope was that someday the old man would learn to trust him and that he would quit sending him on fool's errands.

A.D. – Threat assessment level: Zed - S.S.

"There. That should do it," he told the phoenix, sealing the note after deciding to forgo the lengthy heated comments he had initially intended to send back to the Headmaster. He felt no need to mention seeing Malfoy in the park earlier as he felt that matter was in hand, and further words discussing Arabella Figg's concern were a pointless waste of paper and ink. Dumbledore would read what he wanted to read into his note anyway.

"SQUAWK!" Fawkes disputed.

"Bah! Take it and go you over-plumed partridge. What would that interfering old squib know about Potter's safety anyway? I can't believe a few words from her could convince the Headmaster that his golden boy was in danger of getting a hangnail, whereas he ignores my pleas completely. What did he expect me to find in Potter's basement? A vampire? A bogeyman? Oh I know - a werewolf!" Snape sneered at the bird derisively.

Fawkes trilled in agreement to his last guess.

"I disagree wholeheartedly. You would think that if anyone would remember that Little Whinging is one of the dullest muggle places imaginable, your master would. That's the primary reason he left his golden boy here in the first place. The only thing that could kill him here is boredom. An affliction I am in danger of contracting myself," Severus insisted to Fawkes, thrusting the parchment into his talons.

As soon as the disgruntled bird flew off into the gathering storm, the shrewdly perceptive spy melted back into the shadows to continue his lonely vigil. While not that far away another person was having a conversation with a bird whilst holding her own lonely vigil. Only instead of in a dark dank alley, she was holding hers in a brightly lit flat full of chatchies and overstuffed furniture.

Virgie Smythe reread the instruction for the hair dye and set the bright little egg timer shaped like a fat yellow chick to tick down the allotted minutes necessary to allow the dye to set properly. The advertisement on the package alluded to untold sex appeal if she used the product correctly. Virgie picked up a hand mirror and tried to imitate the model pictured on the box.

"What do you think?" she asked the chick.

"- tick! - tick! - tick! -" the little chick returned blithely.

"That's what I think too - not nearly pouty enough." Virgie popped a sherbet lemon in her mouth and tried again. "Much better," she critiqued and blew a kiss to her mirror image.

"- tick! - tick! - tick! -"

Virgie Smythe was nothing if not blindly optimistic. She interpreted Jeff Nathraichean's visible standoffishness as 'endearing shyness', his palpable revulsion to being in her company as 'playing adorably hard to get', and his aversion to holding a conversation of any meaningful length as 'being charmingly tongue-tied'. He was obviously infatuated and just needed her to point it out a few times until he came to the realization himself.

"Men..." Virgie observed. "They think they can live without us. But they're so very wrong."

"- tick! - tick! - tick! -"

The minute she saw the picture, of who only could only have been his late wife and child, hidden in his desk drawer she knew exactly what she needed to do - dye her hair the same sultry shade of auburn. Poor man - she could scarcely imagine what horrible calamity had caused him to lose his family like that - but she was more than willing to fill the void it had made in his heart. What better way convince Jeffy-Poo that she was his next _grand amour_ than to show him how similar she was to his last?

"- tick! - tick! - tick! -"

Virgie sighed and pulled her fluffy pink bathrobe tighter around her. It was a chilly evening, but the storm that had pelted her windows for the past few weeks seemed to be finally lightening and her mood along with it. Noticing that the moon had actually come out for a few minutes, she rose and went to the window. Leaning on the sill Virgie made a wish on the gigantic yellow white orb hovering in the cloud laced sky.

_Full moon glowing bright  
Light up my path for Mister Right  
When will you send him?  
How long till you see?  
That Jeffy-Poo's the one for me! _

"Ding!" the fat yellow chick chirped that time was up.

Anxious to see the results, Virgie dashed into the bathroom to unwind the plastic wrap from around her head. Arabella Figg, the temporary librarian, told her that the plastic would intensify the colour. Therefore, after applying the dye she wrapped her head with an entire roll, making her look like a giant shiny Q-tip. Discarding the messy plastic in the trash bin Virgie stuck her head under the faucet and rinsed until the water ran clear.

Holding her breath, she towelled her hair dry and turned to the mirror. Her eyes grew wide. Bright orange tendrils the colour of an overripe persimmon framed her face.

"_**NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" **_

'_... Whack! ...'_

Dudley sat up straight in bed thwacking his head on the ceiling above his bunk. He was reeling from a horrible nightmare where he was trapped in a room with an empty icebox.

"OW! That hurt!"

"Serves you right," Harry commented dryly and just loud enough for Dudley to hear.

"Why? Whad' I ever do to you?"

"What haven't you done?" Harry bit back, incensed at the injustice of it all. "Let me give you a list - number one, remember that time you..."

"Shuddit Freak!" Dudley shouted and cut him off. Throwing a used wadded up sock at him he added insult to injury by tacking on, "You did more to me than I ever did to you!"

"Name one time!" Harry shouted back from across the room, knocking the smelly sock off his face and onto the floor.

"Tonight! You ate all my fritters and left me nothing but crumbs! I'm hungry and you don't care if I starve to death!"

'_Hrumph!'_ Harry snorted and rolled over turning his back to his cousin. Flipping his pillow to the cool side, he punched it down. _'I don't have to care about you, everyone else does - double. That's because you're perfect and you can do no wrong. Since the Kruegers love you so much, maybe they'll keep you. If they do, then when I returned to Privet Drive I might have a chance of getting a good night's sleep for a change!' _Treading in the chin deep water of his well of self-pity, Harry tuned out the constant whinging coming from his cousin's side of the room and was soon asleep.

Dudley sighed heavily when didn't receive any satisfaction complaining to his cousin. It wasn't any fun picking a fight with someone who wouldn't fight back. He decided to see if there was anything left in the pantry to quell his hunger pangs. When he first learned he was to stay with his aunt, he didn't have much hesitation because he knew she was a good cook, but lately she hadn't cooked anything. In fact, every time she came into the kitchen the last few days she had turned a little green and then ran to the bathroom. Maybe she had forgotten to brush her teeth, he was always forgetting that himself. Hey! What if those bon-bons he spied earlier were still on the top shelf! He was so hungry after a week of not touching anything they served him because it 'looked strange', was 'weird tasting' or 'smelled funny', that he didn't even care if the pantry monster got him.

Putting on his slippers that looked like stuffed teddy bears, Dudley slipped out of the bedroom and shuffled into the living room. Halfway to the kitchen door he paused. He could hear the low voices of his aunt and uncle murmuring behind their closed bedroom door. That was all he heard. No thumps or bumps. No scrapes or scratches. Best of all - no sounds of Uncle Siri about to pounce on him for some more 'bonding' time!

Continuing towards the kitchen, he noticed as he passed the bottom of the circular staircase, that the trap door at the top was open. That meant he would have to be extra careful if he didn't want to wake up Uncle Siri, and that was the very last thing he wanted to do!

Since Uncle Remmy got sick, Uncle Siri had taken it upon himself to be especially bothersome. Dudley could scarcely turn around without Uncle Siri trying to coax him into some 'character building' activity. He didn't need his character built. His dad said it was fine just the way it was.

In Dudley's opinion, Uncle Siri really should concentrate on Harry - now there was someone who needed some character building. Why, he didn't even know how to throw a good tantrum! Dudley was sure that Uncle Siri had been a pro at it himself - before he got all old and decrepit. Dudley could tell. As his dad always told him - it took one to know one.

Once in the kitchen Dudley paused to take stock of his situation. While he was still hungry, he had to admit that the pantry door looked paper thin and shoddily constructed now that he was alone with it again. What if the pantry monster tried to eat him? Maybe he did care, and he wasn't sure if the flimsy door would be enough to stop it. The longer he stood and looked at it - the taller and wider it grew, until it had grown to impossibly huge proportions. Looming in front of him in the moon lit kitchen, it dared him to open it.

Dudley back away. He was afraid. Then his stomach rumbled... and the pantry rumbled back.

It sounded as if the cans in the pantry were launching themselves off the shelves like missiles and were pelting the door trying to break it down. Then the floor beneath Dudley's slippers started to shake and the entire kitchen seemed to be possessed. The cupboard doors swung wildly on their hinges and silverware rattled in the drawers.

Dudley ran!

Once safe in the living room Dudley sat panting on the comfy couch. His stomach rumbled again. He was so hungry! He really should have eaten some of that chilli for dinner, but he turned up his nose at it because Uncle Siri had insisted it was more fun to experiment than it was to follow a recipe. Dudley was regretting that decision now.

When his stomach growled a third time, Dudley decided he really had to find some food for it somewhere. If he didn't, surely he would be dead of starvation before morning. Other than the kitchen pantry, where could he find some food?

Where indeed...?

Dudley thought...

...and thought...

...and thought...

All he could come up with was that a nice slice of pie (or two or three) would satisfy his demanding stomach until morning, only all the pies were downstairs with Uncle Remmy, and he wasn't supposed to go down there. Aunt Lily said Uncle Remmy was contagious and she didn't want Dudley to catch it.

Only Auntie Lily wouldn't want him to die of starvation either! Would she?

Dudley decided the answer to that was a definite 'NO', and eyed the trap door to the basement flat. In the darkness, he could just make out the outline of the heavy iron door. He bet he could open it. His mum was always saying what a strong lad he was. Uncle Siri probably wasn't even contagious anymore. Auntie Lily was likely just being overprotective of him like his mum was every time she would lock the freak up in the cupboard under the stairs if he even looked like he was going to sneeze on Dudley.

Yeah... that was it. She was just being overprotective. There was really nothing to stop him from getting one of those pies. So what if he woke up Uncle Remmy? Uncle Remmy wasn't so bad, and he'd probably not mind sharing just one little pie. Besides, Uncle Remmy was a heck of a lot less scary than the pantry monster was.

His mind made up, Dudley rolled off the comfy couch onto his knees and crawled over to the trap door. Seizing the heavy bolt with both hands, he tugged at it until it started to slide. Once the bar of the bolt slid away from the hasp, he tried lifting the iron door. It wouldn't budge. Dudley got up and squatted over it, putting his back into it he jerked up with all his might. The door didn't budge.

Not to be thwarted, Dudley fetched a broom from the coat closet and used the stick as a lever with which to pry. He had seen Uncle James hide it there from Uncle Siri, way in the back corner. It seemed kind of silly. If Uncle Siri wanted to clean so badly, Dudley didn't see why Uncle James just didn't let him do it. When the door still refused to budge, Dudley jumped up and down on the broomstick handle to try and force it. All that happened was that with Dudley's weight on it, the broomstick snapped in two.

'_Oh well,'_ Dudley thought shoving the pieces back in the closet where he found them. _'...good thing it was just an old broom. Nobody will care.'_

Down, but not totally defeated, Dudley went back to the circular staircase and squished his bottom onto the bottom most rung so that he could study the door with a closer eye. He couldn't see anything holding it closed from this side. The bolt was shot as far back as it could go, and he didn't see a keyhole indicating it had a lock. Dudley scratched his head - it was a puzzle. Dudley hated puzzles. They were too much work.

He was about to go back to bed hungry, when the door moved slightly in its jamb. Dudley fell to on his hands and knees on top of the door and put his ear to the surface.

'_... screeeeeech! ...'_

That's right! How could he have forgotten? Dudley remembered Uncle Remmy promising that he would always make sure he closed the bolt on his side of the door. He also remembered Auntie Lily saying that was all well and good, but that she would make sure the bolt on her side was too. She said it didn't mean that she didn't trust him, only that she thought it was better to be safe than sorry. Dudley reasoned that she must have meant by that, that it would keep them from accidentally waking him up.

Well it was too late to be concerned about that. From the sounds below, he must have already woken Uncle Remmy. Besides, Uncle Remmy was now unbolting his side of the door so he could come to visit. That was very considerate of him, Dudley thought, especially considering that he just want to raid his icebox.

Dudley put his ear back down to the surface and heard the lower bolt sliding home. His mouth started watering at the thought of all the good things to eat below. Anxious to help Uncle Remmy open the door he started tugging at the handle at the same time the door was getting pressure from below. It raised a few millimetres and then slammed back down tight from the weight bearing down from above - he was still kneeling on it! No wonder it wouldn't open! Dudley moved off the surface and watched with wide eyes as the hatch finally started to rise.

Out from underneath the heavy door came tapping ten long well manicured fingernails, each looking to be at least twelve centimetres long. The nails had glossy shocking pink neon enamel, and sported a glittery gem glued to each tip.

Dudley's eyes grew wider. No way! He didn't know Uncle Remmy had a girlfriend holed up down there with him!

The flashy nails raised the lid a little higher and a cloud of oversweet perfume wafted from the hole. One of the long fingers crooked to beckon him to move closer.

"Uh... hi... I was wondering if I could come down. And maybe have some pie?"

In the pale light two glowing red eyes flashed as if he had said something amusing. The hatch opened a little wider and now Dudley could see that a head of very long and very blond hair was partially obscuring the evil eyes. Dudley backed up. The hair was scarier than the eyes - it was even messier than was Harry's or Uncle James!

The finger with the neon nail polish, beckon to him again.

Dudley gulped and scooted backwards on his bum until he had nowhere left to scoot.

He was quick.

The neon nails were quicker.

With one swift movement the razor sharp nails grabbed Dudley around the ankles and started pulling him towards the wide-open hatch, a throaty chuckle coming from lips painted with deep blood red lipstick framing sharp pointy teeth.

There was something familiar about the long nails, blond hair, red lips, sharp teeth, and sickening sweet perfume... OMG! ... it could only be... Ms. Smythe!

"_**EEEEOOOOWWWWWWW! NOOOOOO! LET ME GO!"**_

Dudley started screaming his head off, all the while kicking to try and loosen the iron grip that was pulling him towards his doom.

"_**GRRRRROOOWWWLLLL! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!"**_

A huge black dog suddenly appeared out of nowhere and planted himself solidly between Dudley and the malevolent entity below.

"_**MAKE HER LET GO OF ME! MAKE HER LET GO!" **_Dudley cried out in terror closing his eyes in the hopes it would make the horrifying image go away.

"_**WOOF! WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!"**_ Padfoot snarled dangerously at Moony to warn him to back off. When that failed to produce results, he began nipping at the claws that still had a hold of the plump boy's ankles. However, Moony wasn't in the mood to give up his tasty tidbit until Padfoot sunk his fangs into his arm to show he wouldn't give up either. Snarling his displeasure, Moony disappeared back into the deep dark void below - taking Dudley's teddy bear slippers with him. Padfoot could hear Moony ripping at the friendly little bear's throats until he discovered they weren't real. Then they came flying back out, their little button eyes missing. Then the button eyes flew out as well.

Sirius slammed the door shut and shot the bolt back into place.

"Dudster! Are you okay?" Sirius gathered the sobbing boy up in his arms and hefted him onto the comfy couch to comfort him.

"Oh Uncle Siri! It was so horrible! She tried to get me!"

"SS-She?" Sirius choked out startled.

"Ms. Smythe! I saw her - she came out of Uncle Remmy's flat and she grabbed me! Then this big dog with fangs saved me! Didn't you see them?" Dudley sobbed out.

"Er... yeah... righty-o... lots of big teeth but everything is all right now... isn't it?"

Dudley just kept sobbing quietly.

"Sirius! What's going on out here?" James poked his head out of the bedroom to check on the ruckus, only to have Sirius wave him away.

"Everything is taken care of. Just a nightmare. Go back to bed."

"You sure?" James questioned, raising his eyebrows at the mangled slippers.

"Absolutely," Sirius assured him crossing his fingers and hoped that he wasn't lying. As soon as James closed the bedroom door again, Sirius turned back to Dudley. "Dudster - you're starting to scare me here. Everything _is_ all right... isn't it? No bites? No scratches? No harm done?"

"I-I-I'm... I'm..."

"Go ahead you can tell me... you're...?"

"STILL HUNGRY!" Dudley wailed.

"Hungry?" Sirius was so relieved it wasn't anything more serious than that, that he almost laughed instead he said, "Off the lap now. My legs are going to sleep."

"But Uncle Remmy has all the pies. And he and Ms. Smythe won't share!"

"Er... I think there is a bit of a misunderstanding going on here Dudster. That ah... that wasn't exactly Ms. Smythe."

"It wasn't?"

"Uh... no, you see your Uncle Remmy hasn't exactly been... _(ahem)..._ 'himself' lately."

"Yeah I know. He's been sick. That's why he's hogging all the pies," Dudley said darkly glaring at the trapdoor. Thankfully, he hadn't realized how close he had come to _being_ the midnight snack, rather than _having_ one.

"Well yes, and that is part of why he is sick - too many pies. He wasn't always this way. A long time ago, when he was not much younger than you, he was a normal kid."

"So wha-what happened to him?" Dudley asked wiping away his lingering tears with the back of his hand and then using his pyjama sleeve, he blew his nose.

"It's a very long, very, very sad story. When Remus was just a little boy he met a man who forcibly introduced him to the seductive side of sucrose. It began small of course, a biscuit here, an extra pudding there. Soon it turned into an obsessive craving, for whole pies especially, and it began to consume his every thought. Each month he would try to ignore it, but the longer he denied himself, the worse it became until it would erupt in a record breaking eating binge of epic proportion." Sirius stretched his arms for emphasis.

Dudley's eyes grew wide at the thought of eating so much he erupted like that. He thought he might like to try to beat Uncle Remmy's record. He could already out eat all of his friends at lunch. Only what Uncle Siri was saying wasn't making total sense.

"I don't understand... I mean that explains why he hogs all the pies, but what about Ms. Smythe? Why will he share with her and not with me?" Dudley whinged annoyingly.

Sirius sighed. How did he explain the bizarre cross-dressing side effect of the new wolfsbane formula to a nine-year-old? Maybe it was better to let him think that Remus did have a girlfriend. Heck, he would prefer to think that himself!

"Do you remember when I said that your Uncle Remmy wasn't exactly himself?"

"Yeah..."

"Well that's exactly what I meant - he's not _'him'_-self."

"Huh? You mean that was really...?"

"Yes. Sad but true."

"Wow."

"You said it my boy...wowzer."

Dudley thought long and hard about what he'd seen. He'd always suspected that there was something odd about Ms. Smythe, and he definitely knew was something odd about Uncle Remmy. However, he'd never suspected that Ms. Smythe and Uncle Remmy were one and the same. Only when he thought about it, there were lots of similarities. They both had sharp teeth. They both got whacked out once a month. He couldn't ever remember seeing them both in the same place at the same time. Wow. He didn't think he'd like having two personalities - he had enough trouble managing with just one.

"Uncle Siri?"

"Yeah Dudster?"

"I-I like sweets..."

"Really Dudster? I can't say that I'd noticed."

"Just sometimes... it's not an _obsession_ or anything like that." Dudley hurried to add lest he get the wrong idea.

"Of course not, or else..."

"Or else what?" Dudley asked with trepidation.

"Or else, what happened to your Uncle Remmy could happen to you too. You know what they say - you are what you eat, and eating too much sugar can make you mental. I think what we saw here tonight proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt."

Dudley shuddered as his potential future flashed before his eyes. He was _definitely_ going to cut back on sugar!

"Now how about we find you a snack and send you back to bed?"

"Er... no thanks Uncle Siri - about the snack that is. I'm not all that hungry anymore."

"Okey-dokey," Sirius grinned and led him back to bed.

After he got Dudley a drink of water and tucked him into the bunk bed, Sirius went back to the living room and reopened the trapdoor. He started to descend, then changed his mind and snatched up the camera from the bookshelf where Remus had left it for safekeeping and looped the strap around his neck. Thus armed, Sirius slipped through the door and bolted it from below. Changing on the stairs into Padfoot, he went down to keep his friend company for the rest of the night. Heh-heh! Not that he had_ any _ulterior motives _at all - _but he just _had_ to get a photo of this!

Wednesday morning dawned with new resolve on many fronts.

After an all night 'hair intervention' session - Virgie resolved to make sure her styling efforts had been worth the trouble. Severus resolved to find somewhere he could catch up on some much needed sleep. Lily resolved to find out why Harry's teacher kept avoiding her. James resolved to do his best to fulfil all the promises he'd made to Lily, no matter what he had to do to accomplish that feat. Harry resolved to continue being a Dudley for the Kruegers even if he died of shame doing it. Dudley resolved to eat fewer puddings. Sirius resolved to never make any resolutions as they weren't fun, and after seeing the blackmail pictures that Padfoot took - an extremely mortified Moony resolved to not take any more untested wolfsbane with unknown side effects or to leave his camera where Padfoot could find it.

Dudley's tummy assured that he rose early and beat everyone into the kitchen. It was still growling and he desperately wanted something to eat. Pulling a chair over from the table, he reached for the Choco-Chunks on the top shelf. He'd already poured out over half the box out before he remembered his resolution. Sitting down on the counter he laboured over reading the ingredients. Ugh! Sugar! He got down from the counter and dumped the bowl into the trash bin with revulsion.

It just wasn't fair! Cold cereal was easy. Everything else was hard. Easily stymied, Dudley sat down at the table and dejectedly put his chin on the table and stared across the surface. Off to one edge he could see a few crumbs of fritter that had escaped the after dinner clean up. He licked his fingertips and picked them up with the wet pads. They tasted so good, and they hadn't really been all that hard to do. The little tease of food made him wonder if he couldn't make himself something else if he tried... but what?

What indeed...?

Dudley thought...

...and thought...

...and thought...

Eggs! Eggs didn't have sugar. Dudley scowled. Rats! The eggs were all hardboiled and they were in the pantry. He needed fresh ones he could cook.

"Hey Dudster! Heh-heh-heh... so how are you this morning?" Remus asked a little sheepishly, uncertain of his reception after what happened the night before.

"I'm fine," Dudley replied dully not even lifting his chin from the table. It was hard to be perky on an empty stomach.

"Are you sure? I mean... I'm sorry if I gave you a fright last night. I didn't mean for you to see me like that. Heh-heh... I didn't mean for _anyone_ to see me like that," Remus admitted ruefully. He was still a little shaky on his feet after his transformation and sat down at the table to face Dudley while he bandaged the bite mark on his arm.

"Nah... I'm okay with it - as long as what happened to you doesn't happen to me. Mum and Dad wouldn't be very happy with me if I didn't stay normal," he qualified.

"Heh-heh-heh... or with me, I dare say. I'll do my best to ensure you stay just as normal as you want to stay. How does that sound?"

"Whatever." Dudley was too hungry to disagree with anything. It took too much energy.

Remus frowned at looked at the lethargic boy. Sirius had assured him that he hadn't exposed Dudley to the lycanthrope virus, but the boy did look sick.

"Dudster? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm just huuuuuungrrrrrry," Dudley whinged pathetically from his semi-prone position.

"Didn't your Uncle Siri fix you anything to eat while I was indisposed?"

"Yeah... but nuthin' good. Just a lot of apples and stuff he called 'good for me'."

"I see some Choco-Chunks, how about some of those?" Remus asked, reaching over and picking up the half-empty box and placing it in front of Dudley. "Probably not the most nutritious but I like them."

"I don't want anything you like," Dudley protested and pushed the box away. "I want to cook me some eeeeeeggggggs."

"I hate to break it to you, but I like eggs too." Remus was a little disappointed at the rejection even though not directed specifically at him. It was déjà vu of his childhood where the other kids were afraid to touch anything he did lest they catch his affliction. He supposed Dudley wasn't as open minded as his earlier 'I'm okay with it' statement had led him to believe. If Dudley remained with James and Lily much longer, perhaps he should start thinking of finding new accommodations. It wouldn't be the first time he had to move because someone found out he was a werewolf. It would just be the first time he was the landlord and kicked himself out for that reason.

"Oh." Dudley's stomach rumbled while he thought for a minute. "All kinds?"

"I admit I'm not too partial to omelettes. I prefer my eggs much runnier. "

Dudley perked up. "Are omelettes hard to make?"

"Not really hard. Anyone can make an omelette. It just takes finesse to make a good one. That's why I'm not too partial to them. I've have a decided lack of finesse lately."

"Yeah, nobody around here seems to have any." Dudley agreed before he asked, "By the way... what's a 'fine-nest'?"

"When it comes to cookery - finesse means to handle the ingredients skilfully."

"Oh... like when I didn't burn the fritters?"

"The same."

"I was really good at that... _much_ better than Uncle Siri was. Maybe I could make an omelette," Dudley speculated. "But I'd need some fresh eggs to try."

"I could probably help you out there. I have quite a few fresh eggs downstairs. There's nothing like a little protein when you feel like snacking on something at midnight."

"But how did you cook them?" Dudley asked scratching his head. When he flooded the shower in the basement flat the previous week, the standing water had caused all the appliances (a hot plate and a decrepit icebox) in the small 'efficiency kitchen' to fritz out.

"As I said - I prefer mine a bit runny," Remus winked at him and went to fetch the eggs.

Remus helped Dudley with the basic recipe and showed him how he could customize the filling with practically anything he wanted to add. He then stood back and let him go for it. Watching Dudley flip the fluffy egg mixture in the pan, Remus was amazed at the natural cookery ability the boy was showing. He seemed to know almost instinctively what to do, and what was more amazing was that Dudley seemed to be having fun doing it. Not only did he cook himself an omelette, he made one for Remus too (leaving the centre very runny). Then when the others showed up one-by-one at the table, he cooked them omelettes to order as well. For everyone but Harry that is.

Harry insisted on eating Choco-Chunks. He got out an extra large mixing bowl and poured the remainder of the box of cereal in it and a half of the milk. This further out-of-character display was of much concern to his mum and dad who had been hoping he'd wake up his usual sunny self. They were exchanging looks trying to decide how to approach him on his new unhealthy eating habits, when to their relief he only managed to choke down a normal sized serving before he pushed the bowl away, unable to eat another bite. The rest of the chunks had reduced into soggy mush at the bottom of a sea of brown milk. Harry could see why his cousin always ate it so fast - otherwise it spoiled.

Concerned about his odd behaviour, Lily checked him for a fever and finding none decided she was going to keep him home from school anyway to see if she couldn't get at the root of what was bothering him, but Harry would have none of it. He'd already missed several opportunities to work on his potential the day before, thanks to his cousin butting in to his detention time, and there was absolutely no way he was going to miss out on any more as he wasn't sure how long he could keep up acting like Dudley.

"I know I was out of it for a few days... but who switched their personalities on me?" Remus asked perplexed after watching the two boys leave for school.

Dudley had left leading the way humming a happy little tune, as he had insisted on making his own lunch so that he would like what was in it for a change. Harry left trailing behind scowling and stomping his feet in all the mud puddles he passed.

Sirius just shook his head and said wickedly, "Maybe it's another side effect from botched potion. Could be it was catching."

"Ha-ha very funny. No really - what's going on? Harry is... well he just isn't Harry and Dudley... Dudley definitely is NOT Dudley. I mean he cooked - _voluntarily!_ How did you get him to do it?"

"It's all in the presentation, my good man... it's all in the presentation."

Harry could hear his uncles laughing about something from all the way down the block. It made him cross. In his doldrums, he immediately assumed that they were laughing at him. Uncle Siri had even asked him if he wasn't 'getting a tad gamey' when he got ready for school. So what if he was wearing his favourite jumper for the tenth straight day in a row? He was NOT 'gamey'! And he wasn't playing at anything - in fact, he'd never been more serious about anything in his life!

He stomped in another puddle, this time sinking in up to his ankles in icy cold mud. Now he remembered the reason he had never joined Dudley in his puddle stomping before - holes in his trainers. Now his socks were sopping wet with the gritty water and sloshed every time he took a step. Brilliant...

Through narrowly slitted eyelids, Severus Snape gazed out over the sea of little damp heads bent over their readers. He wondered again, what in the world possessed Albus Dumbledore to assign him, a trained spy, to babysitting duty. The headmaster was definitely was not making the best use of his copious skills. If he felt it were so important a task that he should sacrifice a Head of House for it - why not McGonagall or Sprout? Either of those two would have been better choices, as they both had a motherly streak a mile wide. Or better yet, Filius Flitwick - he could have looked the little monsters with the ubiquitous runny noses right in the eyes.

He closed his own eyes so that it was easier to pretend he was back at Hogwarts, when several of the runny noses committed the capitol offense of invading his personal space.

"I think he's dead," came one whisperer who sounded suspiciously like Piers Polkiss.

"How can you tell?" another asked, whom could have been either Malcolm or Dennis.

"I dunno."

Severus cringed inwardly. He could actually hear the shrug.

"He doesn't look like he's breathing." The third boy didn't even try to whisper.

"Then he's dead for sure. My mum says breathing is important if you want to stay alive."

"Maybe he's a zombie!"

"Yeah! His skin is all yellow and rubbery!"

"But he always looks like that."

"Yeah... he does. We better make sure. Here... stick this in his ear."

The last one was definitely Dursley. That did it. The whole 'gang' was surrounding him. Sigh. He longed for his nice cosy dungeon with its student population who were rightfully terrified of him, instead of this hoard of nine-year-olds who foolishly didn't know the meaning of fear. What he wouldn't give for a mountain of cauldrons that were in need of scouring right about now.

"Don't. You. Dare." Severus intoned slowly sending them screaming back to their seats. Once they were all back where they belonged, Severus glared them into silence.

"The instructions I wrote on the board were crystal clear." He got up and strode to the board to underline each word as he repeated it. "'Do not bother the teacher before recess unless it is a matter of life and death.'" Whirling back to face the class he asked, "Now whose death do you wish to report? And it better not be Miss Jones' pet worms."

"Yours!" they all chorused happy to have followed his instruction to the 'T'.

"I did not die," their teacher denied flatly.

"Are you sure? You looked dead." They checked with each other for confirmation and were unanimously convinced, that they were more right than he was.

"Quite," he insisted. "Now what was so pressing?"

"It's time for recess. The bell rang and you didn't tell us we could go so we thought you musta died or sumpthin' since you're usually happy to get rid of us." Piers supplied the explanation for the class.

"And you told us not to bother you before recess, so we just let you stay dead until the bell rang - then we checked," Dudley added to justify their delay, knowing the value of fudging the technicalities.

"Small favours Mister Dursley... very small," Severus snarked and then with a wave of his hand dismissed them to the great soggy outdoors. "Don't forget to run with scissors. And if you come back maimed do not expect sympathy!" he called after them.

"You locked the scissors up in the craft closet," Harry reminded him from the back of the room where he was getting the nest egg out of his desk to check on it.

"Well that was smart of me."

"Mr. Krueger said that too."

"That I was smart?"

"No... that he was."

"And by what evidence did he make that convenient observation?"

"For knowing better than to trust me," Harry admitted although it wounded his pride to do so. Besides, he knew his teacher would just pull it out of him, and he had agreed to answer all of his questions in exchange for his help. Since he still wanted help, he figured that meant that he still had to answer.

"And did you do something to merit this distrust?"

"I think so... I must have... right? I mean... I usually do. I just don't know what it was this time," Harry said softly with his head hanging.

Severus sighed inwardly, noting with chagrin that he'd been doing that a lot lately. Still... wouldn't the stubborn child _ever_ learn his self worth? How long was this going to take? Going over he sat down on the desktop in front of the boy and rose up his head with a finger under his chin so that he forced Harry to look him in the eyes. "I think not Mister... _'Krueger'_. If you had truly done something untrustworthy, then you would have known what that was the moment you did it. It would not be in question."

"Then why did he say that?" Harry asked still smarting from the memory.

"That, you would have had to ask him. Did you?"

"No...," Harry said in a soft voice.

"Why not child?"

"He was...er... acting like a maniac. And I remembered what you said about them and I got scared."

"A maniac? How so?" Severus had suspected something was wrong with Mr. Neglectful-at-best, but he had not considered a mental imbalance.

"Well last night when he came home from work he came into my room to talk to me and he kept changing personalities - just like you said a maniac does."

"You were alone with him in your room?" Severus' eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, and he didn't yell at me like I thought he was going to do or nuthin'."

"Abominable grammar aside for a moment, just what did he do?"

"At first he was real nice to me and he asked me all about my day and about how I was feeling and lots of stuff like that."

"At first? Then what happened." Severus' eyebrow started to twitch.

"Well then he got really friendly-like all of a sudden and he said he wanted to take me somewhere - just him and me. Even though he knew I'd been acting up!" Harry's eyes grew big and round.

"He wanted to take you where there would be no witnesses?" Severus' eyebrow started to twitch.

"Yeah to a rock concert, he said it would be really 'fun', but it didn't sound like much fun to me. And then he got really happy and kind of crazy-like and then he... then he..."

"He what? Tell me the truth child. Did he... _touch_ you?" Severus fingered his wand through his jacket sleeve, ready to hear the worst and prepared to deal with it in a most un-muggle fashion.

"He- he hugged me!"

"H-h-hugged?" Severus' tongue tripped over the unfamiliar word.

"Yeah. He hugged me. Even though I'd been bad... and I don't understand why..."

"Ah." Severus relaxed his stance. The adrenaline rushing back out of his veins leaving him feeling let down that there was no immediate danger to thwart. "Let me paraphrase: Your 'father' came home, and instead putting his feet up and ignoring you as many fathers are wont to do, he sought you out in an effort to communicate with you. Moreover, throughout the discourse he was nothing but... 'considerate'... 'caring'... and 'compassionate'?" Severus sarcastic tone made the words sound very derogatory.

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded seriously.

"You are an exasperatingly silly child. What you are describing is a _parent_ not a maniac. Although I admit it is sometimes hard to differentiate between the two, especially during a parent-teacher conference." Severus started pacing as he launched into a lecture on the shortcomings of parent-teacher conferences and of parents in general.

The only thing Harry really heard his teacher say was the remark about parent-teacher conferences. Suddenly he remembered Mrs. Krueger reminding him at breakfast the day before to wait for her after school as she was coming to talk with his teacher and then wanted to walk home with him. No wonder everyone was upset at him! He had totally forgotten and then had been side tracked following the strange man to the park, causing everyone to come looking for him. He really was nothing but trouble!

"... do you understand?"

"Er... yeah?" Seeing his teacher eye him doubtfully, Harry quickly amended his declaration. "I mean yes... er... I mean... I wasn't listening..."

Severus sighed.

"Yesterday's word was 'maniacal' – other than learning that you are completely misapplying its meaning, what lessons did you gather from your studies?"

"Er... there was a lesson?" Harry's mind went totally blank.

Severus sighed again. Another long night in the rain with little sleep left him wondering if he had the amount of patience left required to deal with Potter's insecurities.

"Was there one? Tell me - why do you think I would caution you against maniacs?"

"Um... I'm not sure?"

"Then_** be**_ sure! Think boy! Think! Think as if your life depended upon it! You have to get it through that thick skull of yours that those so possessed have the knack for seeming most reasonable, and are very charismatic. They pull you in. Convince you to swear allegiance. Seduce you to follow them. Influence you to ape their words and deeds. It is imperative that you recognize them for what they are. Take this as fair warning - if you do follow, you will follow them to your own detriment... possibly to your own demise. You _must be_ vigilant! You _**must not**_ fail!"

"I won't fail Sir. I'll remember," Harry vowed, unable to take his eyes off from his mentor.

"Then remember this also Mister..._'Krueger'..._" Severus lowered himself until they were eye-to-eye, nose-to-nose, and continued in a low hushed voice as if wary of being overheard. "...even more importantly you must know that there are those that will do their best to ensure that you _do_ fail. They will make a pretence of being your friends, and then they will collaborate against you. Do you know what these people are called?"

"Er... doofuses?" he replied with one of Dudley's favourite descriptors.

"PAY ATTENTION! THAT IS NOT THE ANSWER!"

Harry could feel the spit landing on his cheek and he backed up as far as the desk behind him would allow. "I'm trying! Really I am! But you keep yelling at me and it makes my ears close!"

"If your sense of hearing fails you, then use one of your others!" Severus slammed the list of vocabulary words down on his desktop. "If you have been studying as diligently as you claim you will know what word I am referring to."

Harry quickly scanned down the list and was relieved to see the word he wanted practically leap off the page at him.

"Traitor?"

"Yes...'traitor'. It is a noun from the Latin '_traditor'. _Meaning to hand over, deliver or betray. A traitor is a person who would do anything for a few gold coins in the palm of their hand. They would sell out your family just as quickly as they would sell out their own. Principals mean nothing to them. They have no compulsion against saying one thing and doing another. They have no loyalties. Traitors only think of themselves. Their souls are dark Mister..._'Krueger'..._ very dark. So dark you might even say they are... _'Black'_." Severus couldn't stop himself from taking a jab at Sirius Black, dead or not. "A traitor would sooner see you in the hands of your enemies than to lift a finger to help. But what makes them even more dangerous than any maniac you may ever encounter, is that the traitor will pretend to be your..._ 'friend'._"The word came out sounding nasty.

"Oh no! What can I do? How can I tell who they are?"

"How indeed Mister..._'Krueger'? _How indeed?" In the pause following that question, a bell rang off in the distance causing Severus to drop the subject immediately.

"Our time is up," he said standing up to adjust his jacket. "Let us make that the topic for our afternoon discourse. In the meantime, it would behoove you to study harder."

Study? Study! Harry could barely _think_ the rest of the morning let alone study! Could someone be out to hurt his family? Were they in danger? Was it that man he followed? What did his teacher know about him? Was that why he was being so scary during morning detention? Harry was determined that he would corner his teacher at lunch and not let such an important lesson wait a moment longer. He had to find out!

When the rest of the students ran for the cafeteria, Harry stayed behind with a resolute expression etched on his face. He was not going to leave until Mr. Nathraichean did a little explaining. Only before he could say a word, Ms. Smythe breezed in the doorway in a bright pink fluffy jumper set and a picnic basket held behind her back.

"Oh Jeffy-Poo! There you are!"

"I was not aware that I was missing."

"Tee-hee! My-oh-my you do say the cleverest things!" Virgie batted her new extra long and extra lustrous false eyelashes at him.

Severus gave her back a cold unblinking stare.

"Um... I was just thinking..."

"How novel."

"Tee-hee! Oh you big tease! Anyway, I was thinking that with you stuck in here looking after that horrible little delinquent, that you would be absolutely famished. So I made us a picnic lunch!" she announced proudly and presented the basket, making a show of tossing her head in a well practiced carefree manner that made the long lustrous red tendrils that she and Arabella worked so hard to produce dance around her face.

After Virgie finished screaming at her own reflection the night before, she fled to Arabella Figg's door in tears. Arabella gave her a nice hot cuppa and they had a long talk about men and how exasperatingly dense they were at times to not recognize a good woman when they saw her. It helped mend some of Virgie's wounded pride to find a sympathetic confidant so she proceeded to pick Arabella's brain on what used to work 'in her day'.

While they worked on her hair, Arabella told Virgie all about her shy Angus. She had finally broken the ice with him, using a basket full of all of Angus' favourite foods. Virgie had no idea what Jeff Nathraichean liked to eat, as she had never been able to trap him in a room long enough to find out, so had been ecstatic to find out by accident on her visit to the corner market that they shared a sweet tooth. While sherbet lemons had never been her favourite in the past, they were growing on her the more of them she ate.

It took most of the night but Arabella managed to turn Virgie's carroty curls into auburn locks with a bottle of something that looked and smelled like pond scum. Virgie gratefully tried to pay her for working what she called 'magic' on her, but Arabella said that just hearing her say that was payment enough. Virgie wished that Jeff Nathraichean would be a tenth as appreciative for what she had to offer as Arabella was. He wasn't.

Severus wished that Ms. Smythe would get the message and leave. She didn't.

Overlooked by both adults, Harry sat in the back of the room a silent witness wishing that Dudley hadn't told him about Uncle Remmy being Ms. Smythe. He hadn't wanted to believe it because Ms. Smythe was so much scarier than Uncle Remmy was, but Dudley said that Uncle Siri had confirmed it, and Uncle Siri hadn't ever lied to him. Besides, it did kind of make sense - Uncle Remmy was a werewolf, and Mr. Nathraichean said that Ms. Smythe was a man-eater. Those were the same thing right? Eyeing 'Uncle Remmy' now, Harry was glad that this time his uncle was forgetting he was in the room.

When Jeff Nathraichean responded to her not so veiled overture with a simple 'Take it away. I am not currently in need of sustenance.' Virgie decided to quit playing hard to get and swept the vase of paper lilies aside. Perching on the corner of his desk with the picnic basket beside her, she crossed her long legs and wagged her finger with its long manicured nail at him.

"Now, now, really Jeffy-Poo you must eat something! All growing boys need their lunch!"

"I am not a 'growing boy', I am a fully grown man, and I will eat when it is convenient for me to do so. Now I have work to do," Severus corrected her peevishly and tried to pick up the pile of papers from the morning lessons to grade - but as Virgie was sitting on half of them, it made it difficult. Trying to wrest them out from under her caused the ones he could get loose to go flying scattered across the room.

"YAY! Now that all that nasty work is out of the way, we can have fun with our picnic!" Virgie clapped her hands happily and tossed her red hair over her shoulders. She was determined not to be put off again, especially after she had cooked her little fingers to the bone inventing all manner of recipes in which to use sherbet lemons. She had made sherbet lemon canapés, sherbet lemon pasties, sherbet lemon crusted boiled eggs, sherbet lemon cupcakes with sherbet lemon icing, and sherbet lemon flavoured tea.

Severus was determined not to put up with her one iota longer than necessary. "No we cannot have 'fun'. As you mentioned yourself, I am otherwise engaged in supervision. This is detention, not a party – there is no 'fun' to be had."

"Don't be that way Jeffy-Poo! I have a special treat in my basket just for you." Virgie pouted tapping his chest with her bare ring finger to punctuate each word.

"I care not what your basket contains Ms. Smythe," he replied succinctly brushing her hand away.

"But Jeffy! Don't you notice anything 'different' about me today?" Virgie swung her head so her red curls cascaded beguilingly, drawing attention to her décolletage.

Severus gave the question due consideration. The long pause and intense gaze made Virgie's heart flutter until the object of her misplaced affection replied honestly, "No."

"Arrrghh! Why you…. you… you _man!_" Virgie threw the picnic basket at him and jumped down off the desk, breaking the heel of her left pump and turning her ankle in the process. When quick tears sprang into her eyes, she brushed them aside loosening one of her false eyelashes - which then flicked off her finger in slow motion and landed on Severus' long hooked nose. Severus plucked off the fringe and dangled it in front of Ms. Smythe by his fingertips, its removal having left a prominent mascara streak on the end of his nose. Embarrassed, Virgie limped out of the room just as quickly as she could on one heel and one flat.

"I think she... er... I mean he... er... I mean I think she likes you Mr. Nathraichean," Harry observed picking up the tumbled test papers and taking them up to his teacher.

"Perish the thought. I'm sure it's just some variety of a spring moulting virus. They are prevalent in exotic species this time of year. Shall we see what's for lunch?" Severus invited, wondering what the 'special' item was that the basket on his lap contained. It would be hoping too much that it was his favourite meal, a thermos of nice strong coffee and a buttered scone, but as long as it wasn't something overly sweet, he didn't care. As he started to lift the lid, Virgie stormed in and snatched it out of his hands.

"Give me back my basket! You don't deserve it! Probably..." She capitulated sniffing. She had come back just in time to hear him say the word 'exotic'. Though she didn't catch the rest of the comment, whom else could he have possibly been describing? He must have noticed that her hair was now the shade of a Tahitian sunset in all its glory! Reaching into the basket for a sherbet lemon cupcake, she placed it on his desk. Then she marched back out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster barefoot.

"Told you so!" Harry laughed at his teacher's sour face looking at the sweet cupcake.

"What are you still doing here?" Severus sneered back irritated and more than a little hungry now that Ms. Smythe had brought up the topic of food.

"Doing detention."

"Well go away. I grant you reprieve for today. I have plans for the remainder of my lunch period and they do not include you." Severus' plans included locking the door, turning out the lights, transfiguring his desk into a comfy cot and taking a nap.

"Yes they do," Harry refused to budge.

"Since when?"

"Since you gave me lunchtime detention to get out of working in the cafeteria... or do you want me to run after Ms. Smythe and tell her that you're available for that picnic now?"

"Blackmailer," Severus critiqued dryly. Check...

"Student of the Salazar System," Harry shot back. ...and Checkmate!

What could Severus say to that? Pride in his future Slytherin far outweighed his intense annoyance.

"Very well since you desire punishment so badly you may clean the blackboards – _silently_." Severus said sweeping the sugary dessert into the rubbish bin and putting the vase of paper flowers back where they belonged on the corner of his desk.

"But I thought we were going to talk!" Harry protested.

"Then you thought wrong my young pupil. I quite clearly set that appointment for this afternoon as I have much to contemplate first. I am not in the mood to converse until then. You will just have to wait."

"But-but…"

"Clean Mister…_'Krueger'_. Or do you wish me to tell your cousin that you are not living up to your part of his contract, and therefore he must surrender his toy once again?"

"…blackmailer," Harry grumbled under his breath and picked up the eraser.

"No -_ teacher_," Severus countered with a tiny smile in one corner of his lips at having won the debate sure he'd taught the boy a lesson on one-upmanship. Despite having to forgo his much needed nap, Severus enjoyed the rest of his lunchtime immensely.

Whenever Harry went to the window to bang out the erasers, Severus would surreptitiously use his wand to put chalk marks back on the just cleaned boards. Then he would pretend to be deep in his reading and totally disconnected from the scene when Harry would come back. It made him chuckle to see the boy stare at the messy board and start all over, frustrated that he had missed so many marks.

Amusement aside, Severus also used the time to scrutinize every millimetre of the boy from behind his book. While he didn't see any further sign of bodily harm, he was disturbed that Potter hadn't recognized what parental attention felt like when he received it. Not that in his opinion Mr. Neglectful-at-best and Mrs. Nasty-note-writer were sterling examples of good parenting, but the boy shouldn't have been totally clueless.

He was also disturbed that Potter left little muddy puddles everywhere he went. It had been hours since the children arrived at school and Potter's shoes were still leaking rainwater. The holes looked even bigger today than they had previously.

Noticing the boy shiver, he took advantage of Potter's distraction with his never-ending chore, and sent a small _'Tergeo'_ towards his feet to siphon the rainwater out of his socks. He followed up with a _'Reparo' _charm to decrease size of holes considerably but not close them entirely. He didn't want it to be obvious that something had changed – that would make it impossible for Potter to explain to the muggles should they notice.

Housekeeping taken care of Severus went on to ponder the curious events of the day before. One thing he knew for a fact was that Dudley Dursley did not possess an imagination. That left him to wonder about Dursley's description of the 'pantry monster'. Two grey human eyes and the top of a silver tipped cane could have easily been mistaken for three glowing silver eyes in a young child's panic at finding an interloper in their house. Lucius Malfoy had been wearing a cape of deep aubergine when he confronted him in the park. Was Malfoy the 'purple-people-eater' that Dursley had been describing? If so, than that would mean that Malfoy had been inside the Dursley's flat.

Severus frowned deeply. Merlin! That would mean that the Headmaster was right. The one night that he dropped surveillance to work on that blasted egg was the one night a Death Eater had managed to get within striking distance of the Boy-who-lived. Someone must have tipped him off. It may only have been by happenstance that Malfoy got the wrong floor and encountered Dursley instead. Either that, or Malfoy wasn't aware that Potter was living on the first floor right below, and had searched the Dursley residence on the top floor looking for clues to Potter's whereabouts.

He would have to query Potter during their afternoon session to find out if he had any other encounters with the man. If he had, then he would have to take immediate steps to remove him to a safer location. Only where to put him? Who could look after the trouble prone boy adequately? Whom could he trust when he trusted no one other than himself?

Severus was still pondering the answers to these questions later that day when the bell rang for afternoon recess. All the little boys and girls greatly relieved to escape from his close examination of their geography skills to run carefree on the playground in a game of 'dodge-the-puddle'. A game very similar to dodge ball, only much wetter.

Harry got the egg out of his desk and tenderly turned it. The warmth of his hands made the little creature within vibrate with happiness at the attention. He was doing his best not to form attachments to Mr. and Mrs. Krueger, but he hadn't held back at all becoming firmly attached to the growing life within the egg.

Sadly, Harry tucked the egg back into its nest box and patted it. Aunt Petunia would never allow it in the house. If by some miracle she did, she would make him give it to Dudley. That can never happen! Dudley would kill it just like his goldfish.

"Don't worry you'll like it with my uncles. They can be real fun. Just watch out for Uncle Remmy okay? When he gets hungry he'll eat anything."

He was very grateful to his teacher for healing the egg but he was also very ungrateful that Mr. Nathraichean had refused to talk with him at lunch. He could have easily asked him a hundred questions at the same time he was cleaning the blackboard. It seemed such a waste of time. Tucking the nest box back into his desk he put his chin down on his crossed arms and waited expectantly for the teacher to set down his pen and look at him. He was going to get answers or his name wasn't Harry James whatever!

Severus could feel the boy's eyes boring holes through his forehead, but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of caving in until he was ready. Therefore, he took his time grading the geography quizzes.

'_...(cough)...' _Harry sent a small reminder that he was still waiting.

Annoyed, Severus then decided to put the graded papers in order from the shortest child to the tallest. It gave him a small measure of guilty satisfaction to be rebellious and not order them alphabetically as instructed by the head office.

'_...(cough)... (cough)...'_

Severus then tidied up his desktop, which was slightly askew after Ms. Smythe's visit.

'_...(cough)... (cough)... (cough)...'_

"Are you ill?" Mr. Nathraichean finally asked out of concerned that the child's feet had been damp far too long. Only the bright light in Harry's eyes was delight, that he had finally caught his teacher's attention, rather than fever.

"No Sir... I was just wondering if we could talk now. I have lots of questions."

"Then we have something in common since I have a number of them myself. As the teacher, I will go first."

Harry scowled at that decree. He had waited so long already! However, the 'going first' did lead him to believe that there would be a 'going second' at some point.

"Yesterday after school, when I saw you in the play park, you appeared to be following a gentleman with a walking stick. Had you seen him before?"

"I think so... but just once."

"Where?" Severus asked with unexpected urgency.

"I'm not really sure _exactly_ where I was. I do remember it was night... and it was dark... and it was cold... and there was him and someone else too..." Harry thought back to his trip to Gringotts when he had first seen the silver haired man and the miniature version of him in the dark alley. Uncle Siri had never told him the names of the streets they were travelling. He had just given him the path to the bank in a poem about a rainbow. "Oh! I remember! It was right after I saw the green light and the scary yellow eyes!"

"You remember seeing a green light?" Severus was shocked. The boy had just been a year and a half old at the time of Voldemort's attack and had witnessed the fatal green light course from the curse that killed his parents.

He had always suspected that Voldemort hadn't gone to the Potters alone, as his inner circle of Death Eaters had claimed later to avoid a prison sentence in Azkaban. The Dark Lord craved attention too much, and didn't ever pass on an opportunity to put on a show of power. He would have brought an audience, and Malfoy could very well have been at his side. "I thought you would have been too young to remember that night."

"I'm nine and three quarters and I can remember_ lots_ of things," Harry claimed.

"Such as?" Severus asked amused.

"Such as - you haven't let me ask my questions yet!"

"So I have not," Severus smirked at Harry's Slytherin tenacity but nodded to go ahead.

"Why did you shove me in the storm pipe when you saw me in the park?"

"It seemed the prudent thing to do at the time."

Harry considered that carefully before he asked his next question thinking about the rules of twenty questions. "Was that because the man with the silver hair was there?"

"Very astute of you to surmise that fact."

"Does that mean 'yes'?"

"Yes it does." Severus answered proud of the progress he had made with the boy. He was now asking clear concise questions.

"You seemed to know him... do you?"

"Somewhat. We went to the same school many years ago, although a few years apart." Severus silently applauded his pupil for having been so alert as to have spotted Malfoy and followed him, without Malfoy spotting him in return, a feat few others could claim.

"So he's your friend?"

"Are you friends with everyone you go to school with?"

"No... I don't really have any friends here. They... er... all like Dudley better." Harry admitted wistfully.

Severus felt a certain kinship at this painful admission. He had very few friends while attending school himself. "Is that all you wanted to ask?"

"Er... no... that man - he was watching my house. Is he a maniac or a maybe a traitor?"

"I do not believe that he would fall directly within either definition. Nevertheless, he is definitely not someone you should underestimate either. If you see him again it would be best not to follow him."

Worried, Harry jumped on that. "Does that mean he's coming back? Is he a stalker?"

"I believe he mentioned that he had only been here 'visiting' someone in the vicinity and was leaving soon for somewhere abroad, so the likelihood is slight. However, as I am not privy to his social calendar I have no further comment on the topic."

From the look on Harry's face, he was still bursting with questions. Only to disclose any more at this time would ultimately lead to a discussion of the wizarding world. With the boy's fledgling self-confidence still growing, Severus did not feel Harry was ready. Nor did he feel that he was the one to do it. Best leave that discussion up to someone who was more touchy-feely and who could discuss Lily and Potter senior without prejudice.

He would just have to keep a closer eye on the situation. Now that Malfoy had located the Dursley's it wouldn't be long until he put two and two together and came up with Potter. It had taken a lot of quick thinking and fast-talking to explain his own presence in Little Whinging satisfactorily to Malfoy. He had told him that he too was searching for the Potter brat and that he had convinced the Headmaster to bankroll the quest under the guise of recovering him for the 'light side'. When in truth he was just cleverly using the Headmaster's financing to find him so that the Death Eaters could exact their just revenge. They both chuckled over how red faced Dumbledore would be when he found out he had paid to have his own wonder boy hunted down and executed.

Malfoy had insisted that they apparate back to his manor house and plot further strategy over a bottle of aged brandy. Severus was glad he had the foresight to shove Potter into the pipe headfirst and thus ensuring he would not see their method of departure. Once settled in Lucius' well-appointed den they shared what they had learned so far, with Lucius' drink loosened tongue imparting far more details than Severus, who claimed having only one real lead - that being the Dursley's foreclosed vacation villa in Majorca.

Lucius had insisted on taking over that trail, as he was freer to travel abroad. He said that his wife had been wheedling for a spring holiday to somewhere warm and this was the perfect opportunity to do that and search at the same time. He could take her and their son Draco and blend in like tourists. Outwardly, Severus acted upset at being left following up on the Dursleys in Little Whinging, when inwardly he was congratulating himself that Lucius had taken the bait. Nevertheless, even with his family distracting him in Majorca, it wouldn't take too long before he found out it was a dead end and be back.

Severus would have to make his mind up soon what to do about it. What he needed to make an informed decision was more information.

"You were correct. You do have many questions. However, it is now my turn."

"But I wasn't done!"

"You have had far more than your allotment of queries for now."

Harry sat back and crossed his arms frustrated. He wasn't anywhere near twenty yet! He still wanted to ask him if the silver haired man was a minion! Mr. Krueger had said to watch out for minions because they worked for the Evil Wizard, and despite his teacher's assurances, Harry knew that man hadn't been 'visiting' anyone. They were the only ones who lived on that block. He had to have been watching their building!

Severus sat back and templed his hands in front of him, tapping his index fingers together. Now how to put this that didn't make him sound like a stalker, as after his close encounter with Malfoy, Potter seemed to have a fixation on them.

"Last night I strolled by your address, to assure myself that you had returned home safely, and when I approached I heard what sounded like you or your cousin in acute distress. I am curious as to what caused such a level of pandemonium in your abode."

"Er... it was Dudley. He had a nightmare."

"I also heard growling."

"He was hungry."

"And howling."

"He...er... stubbed his toe on the way to the icebox?"

"And scratching."

"He forgot to bathe and he was itchy?"

"Come come Mister..._'Krueger'..._ those were not the sounds of a missed bath I heard. Is there something going in that building of which I should be aware? I am your teacher, and as such, I am partially responsible for your welfare. You needed be afraid to tell me."

In truth, Severus was the one afraid of the answer. He had already purposely neglected to inform the Headmaster about Lucius Malfoy, which left him with no backup in the event he misjudged the situation and Malfoy discovered the truth sooner than expected. Although... what if he had misjudged the situation in Potter's building as well? After he had sent back the message with Fawkes, assuring the Headmaster that there was no threat looming near Potter, he had heard the unearthly howls of something feral. If it weren't that he was buried neck deep in the middle of Muggleville, he would have immediately jumped to the conclusion that Remus Lupin had surfaced after all these years. However, he knew that was as remote a possibility as Sirius Black rising out from the sea alive. Both were missing and presumed dead - Black from his own foolishness at trying to escape his just punishment, and Lupin a casualty of war like his friends the Potters. No, the marauders were all dead and gone. The only trace of them left alive was sitting in front of him stubbornly not talking.

Uncle Remmy being a werewolf was another big family secret that Harry had to keep, so it stood to reason that Uncle Remmy also being Ms. Smythe was a big secret too. It didn't surprise Harry at all that Dudley had screamed when he saw him-her. In fact, he was sure he would have screamed too if he'd been the one to see Ms. Smythe rising up through the trapdoor in the middle of the night. Except that it didn't matter to him how weird Uncle Remmy was, he was still Uncle Remmy and Harry was loyal to him. There was no way he was going to tell his teacher anything about him.

Harry stuck his nose in the air and answered in the same monotone of his teacher. "I do believe that Dudley mentioned he was intending to take a shower tonight. However, as I am not privy to his social calendar I have no further comment on the topic."

"Cheeky brat."

"Just following your example Sir," Harry replied just as the rest of the class returned from the playground earning himself another proud yet annoyed look from his teacher.

The rest of the afternoon dragged excruciatingly slow for Harry. All he wanted to do was to dash home as quickly as he could to make sure the silver haired man hadn't come back. The minute the bell stuck dismissing classes for the day, he shot out of his seat like a rocket and flew out the door.

"Quit being in such a hurry!" Dudley huffed trying to keep up.

"Quit being such a slow poke!" Harry yelled back speeding up the pace.

Harry only slowed down when he got within sight of their building. Ducking quickly out of sight behind some discarded crates in front of the old tannery next door, he pulled his cousin in beside him when he started to chug by.

"Hey! What's the big deal?" Dudley yelled at the unexpected sideways movement.

"Shush! I'm checking for minions."

"Min-whats?"

"No, min-yawns."

"Is that some kind of candy?" Dudley thought it sounded like mints.

"No dummy, minions are the people who made the Krueger's forget all about me."

"Well that's boring. I'm going to go make me a snack." Dudley said licking his lips.

"You're going to cook something again?"

"Got to – self preservation. It's better than taking a chance on what Uncle Siri might come up with again. Do you know what he made me for lunch yesterday? An egg and cantaloupe sandwich! Yuck! That man's more horrid at cookery than my mum. See ya!"

"Dudley get back here! It might not be safe!" Harry hissed after him.

"Safe enough for me - I'm not the one they forgot about," Dudley called out loudly over his shoulder as he strolled nonchalantly up the stoop and opened the front door.

"Brilliant Dud - if the minions are around, now they know we're here too." Harry shook his head in disgust and gave up hiding to follow Dudley inside. Remembering that Mrs. Krueger had grounded him, Harry started to duck into his room with his book bag the minute he walked into the flat. He didn't mind, he needed to turn the egg anyway, and he was still hiding it from Dudley. Only Mrs. Krueger would have none of it. Instead, she pulled him onto the comfy couch beside her for a chat.

After the boy's had left for school, and James for work, Lily had picked Remus' brain on what might be upsetting Harry knowing that the two were close. After hearing all that had been going on while he was in quarantine, Remus ventured the opinion that Harry might just be testing his boundaries with them and told her that it was a normal process for an adopted child in a new unfamiliar relationship.

Lily pointed out that it wasn't all that new for him anymore as they had had him back for almost four months, so they should be familiar by now. In fact, up until April Fools Day, she thought that they had been reconnecting quite well. Then Remus countered with another fact that was also when Dudley arrived and Lily had started dividing her attention between them. There might be a jealousy element in play. Then he hauled out all the unread parenting pamphlets and pointed out several enlightening sections.

Lily felt heartsick. She knew he was right, but she also knew that despite the horrid timing there wasn't anything else she could have done except take Dudley in. She told Petunia that if their situations had been reversed, she would have cherished Dudley as her own, and she had meant it. Only when she had gone out of the way to make Dudley feel welcome she hadn't meant to make Harry feel unwelcome, or for her love of her nephew, to tromp her love of her son. It made her sad to think that she may have to choose between them because she knew without a doubt Harry would always win in her heart. Just as she supposed that Dudley would always win in Petunia's.

Lily had done a lot of thinking during the day and came to realize that may have been how all the neglect her son experienced in her sister's home had started - with one little choice. She could see now how easy it would have been to start, and how very hard it would have been to stop the preferential treatment once it began to grow out of control. She made up her mind that she wouldn't make the same mistake, but at the same time, she would make it up to Harry. What she didn't know was how she was going to achieve that balance. All she knew was that she would try, and try, and try, and then try again.

"Harry, I want to tell you again how sorry I am that I lost my temper with you yesterday."

"That's okay I deserved it," Harry said softly pushing his glasses up his nose.

"No you didn't. It was just that I was worried and I reacted poorly. Will you forgive me?"

"Er... sure... can I go now?"

"I thought maybe we could talk for a while?" Lily offered putting her arms around him and drawing him close before he could run off.

"Er... what about?" Harry squirmed a bit trying his best not to melt into her hug.

"Why don't you tell me what you did today in school? Did you have fun?"

"I guess so," Harry replied keeping the answer as short as possible as Dudley would have done. If he could have just been himself he would have told her all about Ms. Smythe and her picnic basket, and how his teacher liked the flowers he had made for him more than the cupcake she had. There were lots of things that he would have liked to tell her about, but being a Dudley meant not doing anything that you could avoid.

"Um okay... what was fun about it?"

"I dunno," Harry started to shrug and then remembered his teacher frowning at him earlier in class when he did the same thing. No shrugging allowed. Harry straightened his back as much as he could while being pinned in an embrace.

"Well then what did you learn about?" When Lily felt Harry go stiff in her arms it just made her all that more determined to keep the conversation going until he relaxed again.

"Geography."

"Oh goody! Geography is so much fun! I love dreaming about all the places I never seen and think about travelling there someday. Did you learn about anywhere special?"

"Not really."

"Okay... so you don't want to chat... what would you like to do?"

"I really need to go to my room. Can I?" Harry was desperate to get away.

"Do you have homework? I could help you with it," Lily proposed hopefully.

"Er... no Ma'am not tonight."

"You're not grounded anymore Harry. It's okay to stay out here. Maybe we could read a story together? Just the two of us. How does that sound?"

Actually, it sounded _very_ nice, he loved to read, and even more - he loved to hear Mrs. Krueger read out loud to him. It made him feel all warm and happy inside. Only Dudley didn't like reading, so now neither could he… drat that Dudley!

"Er... I don't think so, thanks anyway."

"No? I thought we could have a date." Lily gave him a big hug and didn't let go. She just kept hugging him, and hugging him, and hugging him.

Harry cringed when he heard the disappointment in her voice, but told himself that she would be much happier when he had completed his transformation into Dudley. He finally had to slip out from under her arms in order to escape. Grabbing his book bag, he ran for his room before he gave into the overwhelming temptation to hug her back.

"Whew! That was too close! I almost didn't make it!" he told the egg taking it out and spritzing its shell with warm water. He could feel the little creature moving around in response to his voice. She was getting more and more active every day. He knew instinctively that it wouldn't be long before she was ready to hatch.

Harry was so engrossed talking with the egg that he didn't hear his mum open the door to peek in on him. Lily was curious what was so important to her son that he had holed himself up in his room all afternoon by himself. She was both elated to find him happily occupied and talkative, and depressed that he didn't show any of that with her. She never thought she would ever feel jealous of an egg, but she definitely was of that one.

By the time that James got home from his double shift, Lily had already plotted out numerous egg-napping scenarios. Only she knew she would never carry any of them out, as it would break her little boy's heart if the egg disappeared. She only hoped that whatever hatched out of the egg that it turned out to be an acceptable pet, since she also knew it would be James and her carrying the blame if he had to give it up.

Hunger pangs finally drew Harry out of his room to dinner, where he was shocked to see his cousin glowing from the praise he was receiving for the simple dinner he had cooked. He just couldn't win! Everyone praised Dudley no matter what he did! Whenever Harry tried to help with the cookery, the Kruegers got all upset. Then Dudley does it once, and he's one of the Seven Wonders of the World! He was sure that if he had been the one to cook the dinner, he still would have gotten looks that meant he had done something wrong, and they would have praised Dudley for doing nothing. Harry lost his appetite.

The merry banter around the table failed to draw him in and did little to lighten his mood as he picked at his food. When he couldn't stand hearing Dudley prattle on about how brilliant he was anymore, he asked them to excuse him. His worried parents assented, and exchanged reassuring hand squeezes under the table that it would be all right.

After Harry left the room, Dudley decided it would be a good time to sneak upstairs and play on his computer awhile and tried to leave as well. Sirius pulled him back down.

"Hey! What's the rush there Dudster? You've still got the dishes to wash. It's part of the whole culinary experience."

"What? But I did all the cookery! Make Harry do it, he just sat on his duff all night."

"I doubt if a little more work will kill you Dudster," Sirius said kiddingly.

"Why take the chance?" Dudley shot back righteously incensed.

"Now that's more like our old Dudster. I was beginning to be worried that someone had kidnapped you and left a clone in your place. C'mon, I'll help you clean up. Here you can help too Padfoot," Remus laughed and tossed Sirius a drying towel. He was just glad that after that one strange comment at breakfast, Dudley hadn't seemed all that afraid of him. He had just been a bit standoffish, only that wasn't new, and he hadn't run screaming from the room when he entered. Remus could live with that.

As they went to check on their troubled son James and Lily could hear Dudley grumbling about how unfair it was to make him do Harry's chores, and Sirius grumbling about how unfair it was he hadn't a wand, and Remus trying to cheer them both up. Everything was normal in that quarter. Only when they got to Harry's room, it was dark and quiet. Tiptoeing in, they found him asleep on top of his coverlet, his cheeks stained from tears and he had the nest box securely locked in his arms. Nope - there was going to be no egg-napping tonight. After taking off his trainers, and covering him up with a blanket, the pair tiptoed back out as quietly as they could and settled onto the comfy couch to talk.

"James what are we going to do? This afternoon it seemed as if Harry couldn't stand to be in the same room with me, and tonight he was so unhappy. It breaks my heart."

James sat there with mixed emotions gathering his thoughts, not even noticing he was still holding Harry's shoes in his hands as he knocked them together rhythmically. "What did Remus suggest?" He finally asked quietly, with a tinge of envy in his voice.

"Remus?"

"Remus. I know you talked to him after I left for work. What did he say we should do?"

"You sound as if I went behind your back… you're not upset with me are you?"

"Not really… okay a bit…I just thought we were going to work this out ourselves. He is our son after all and we're his parents. We ought to be able to handle him."

"I'm sorry James, but I really wanted his opinion – I'm out of ideas." Lily put her head on his shoulder with a sigh and put her hand over his to still them.

James sighed and dropped the trainers in his lap so he could catch Lily's hand in his - his slight bout of envy dissipating with the warmth of Lily's touch. "I'm out of ideas myself, and I don't blame you for asking his input. I value his opinion and I would have done it myself but he's been a tad unapproachable lately, leastwise for a sit down strategy session. Besides which, that neon pink fingernail polish and blond hair threw me for a loop when I saw him at breakfast - hard to get serious with him after that."

"He took off the polish."

"Yeah… but the image is still there - etched blindingly into my retinas."

"The shade wasn't that bad James! It was one of mine." Lily punched him playfully.

"But it looks a heck of a lot better on you. On Remus it just looked… _frightening_." James shuddered at the memory.

Lily laughed lightly. "You're a big boy, you'll get over it. In the meantime, let's get back to Harry - Remus thought that maybe it's a phase he's going through."

"A phase? Ha-ha! Well Remus would know - he has as many phases as the moon."

"Yes, well he thinks its normal part of growing up. You know, just like the year you and Sirius spent trying to start a rock band at Hogwarts although neither of you have any musical talent whatsoever."

"But the look on the Headmaster's face when we opened the Yule Ball by smashing our guitars on stage was priceless." James remembered fondly. "He was expecting a waltz."

"And as I remember he clapped the loudest, so that probably wasn't the best analogy. But you get what I mean - he thinks Harry is just testing his boundaries with us."

"How are we doing?"

"Failing dreadfully I'm afraid."

"Just 'Dreadful' not all the way down to 'Troll'? So there's some hope for us?"

"A smidge."

"What did he suggest we do about it - take remedial parenting lessons?"

"Just to be patient."

"I'm tired of being patient – I want action. Didn't he suggest anything better than that?"

As if on cue, Remus came through the kitchen door with Sirius and Dudley right behind.

"Hallo! We've finished cleaning up the kitchen so as soon as Sirius puts the Dudster to bed we're going to start on cleaning up the rest of me. I… heh-heh… got a might shaggy. It'll be nice to feel myself again. Ah... did you bring home that brown hair dye?" Remus asked hesitatingly tugging at his shoulder length platinum blond hair and nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It would still be a few nights before the influence of full moon was completely manageable again, but he was past the worst of it.

"Of course I did, I'd never forget you. Since your shower's still broken from when Dudley using it, I left it for you upstairs in Padfoot's bath." James answered, gazing at his friend sadly. No matter how long they'd been friends, Remus still expected his friendship to be rejected out of hand. In many ways, it reminded him of how Harry had been acting.

"Thanks," Remus flashed him a grateful smile as he went up the circular staircase.

"Earth to James... Earth to James..." Lily waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. "Now, back to our discussion - according to the parenting pamphlets…"

"Merlin! I knew we'd be getting back to those bloody pamphlets one of these days!"

"Just what do you have against them? You don't mind learning new things _that_ much. You were always one of the top students in our class at Hogwarts."

"It's the thought of total strangers telling us how to talk to our own son. It just so… so very, _very_ wrong! We love him for Merlin's sake - it should come naturally to us!"

"Perhaps it's time to read them anyway James. They might have a few good ideas, and we can always disregard any of the suggestions that we disagree with." Lily wisely didn't mention she had already read through them with Remus and taken voluminous notes.

"Can we make fun of them instead?"

"If you wish, but read them first." Lily smiled sweetly and handed them over.

"Had 'em handy didn't you?"

"Just in case you decided to be reasonable for a change… read this part right here," Lily pointed to an inside section labelled 'Ten Wishes of a Child Waiting for Adoption'.

_My first wish is for a parent who will make sure I'm warm, and safe, and not hungry. It doesn't have to be anything fancy - I love macaroni and cheese._

_My second wish is for a parent who willingly gives me their undivided attention. There's no limit to work - it'll always be there tomorrow. Only tomorrow, I'll have one less day of childhood and be one day closer to being grownup. I want to spend today with you._

_My third wish is for a parent who is interested enough to be involved in my life. I need encouragement, not just praise. Please don't expect more from me that I have to give. I'm smaller and don't know all the things you do. I'm not as strong, coordinated, or fast. I won't always do things as you would have, but if you do it over for me, it makes me think I let you down. I want to feel my efforts, while imperfect, are still worthwhile._

_My fourth wish is for a parent who keeps their word consistently, not just when it's convenient. Explain my limits and boundaries so that I can understand them, and then hold me accountable. Make the penalties for breaking them reasonable and appropriate. I need to know you will do what you say - when it comes to discipline and promises alike. When you forget either, it makes me feel unimportant and you lose my trust._

_My fifth wish is for a parent who won't lie to me, and one who will tell me the truth and criticize me for what I do, without criticizing me for who I am. I know you won't always be able to answer my questions, but you can at least try. It won't always be what I want to hear, but if you don't tell me someday, someone else will._

_My sixth wish is for a parent I can look up to and learn from, so what you does matter just as much if not more than what you say, for I understand what I see better than what I hear. Be the example you want me to be and I promise not to disappoint you._

_My seventh wish is for a parent who won't compare me to others. I'm not 'just like' anyone else and because of that, I don't expect to be treated equally – I just want to be treated fairly. I'm special and unique and I want to know that you know that too._

_My eighth wish is for a parent who will help me achieve and who will allow me to fail. There is so much that I want to see and do. I need to be able to explore the world and try out new things on my own, to make my own mistakes, to build my skills, my confidence, and my independence – knowing that you will be there to watch out for me, comfort me if I have problems, and cheer me on when I do not._

_My ninth wish is for a parent who will treat me, and my friends, with the same respect and courtesy they would like to receiv__e - even if they don't know my friends or don't like them. I know them and I like them. It shows me that you trust my judgment._

_My tenth and last wish is for a parent who will love me, no ma__tter what. I don't need things - I need love. You can't spoil me by giving me too much love. It just isn't possible._

James finished reading and leaned back with his eyes closed.

"Still want to make fun?" Lily asked softly.

"It just makes me angry."

"The pamphlets?"

"No… the need for them. To think that a child - any child - has to wonder if they will ever have a parent who will even be one of these things to them, let alone all of them, as they deserve to have. It just makes me want to adopt every child who needs a home."

"Maybe someday we will adopt a child Jimmy. I know I have room in my heart for dozens, but right now, I just want to make sure we are all these things to our Harry. I would say that we have the first and last wish in the bag - no problem. I can't imagine loving our children more that we do, and I would die before I would let them be hurt. And I'd be golden on the third wish if his teacher would just cooperate - It's not as if I haven't been trying to be involved, I've been going out of my way in that area. But I blew it on the seventh with that 'I wish you were more like Dudley' remark."

"We're both a little guilty on the fifth wish. We haven't exactly lied to him, but we haven't told him the whole truth about the Wizarding World either. I've let him down on the second wish too, with all the double shifts I've been working. I should have just told my boss 'no' and quit on the spot."

"But you have too much integrity to have done that James, and besides that would have made you break the sixth - being a good example. These are harder than they look."

"It's too late to change it now anyway, but at least I only have one day to go."

"I think were okay on eighth and ninth wish but read the fourth wish again. I think that's where we are failing Harry the most."

"You mean the one about boundaries?"

"Yes, but that's not all it's about." Lily paraphrased, "'_I wish for a parent who keeps their word. When you forget, it makes me feel unimportant_.' James we've forgotten so much."

"But we explained that to him and he understood. I know he did. Besides, our memories are back now so that can't be it. He said he forgave us."

"That may have been true for everything we forgot before we got him back, but what about all that we've forgotten to do since?"

"Forgotten to do? Like what? Oh… yeah… the lock! I promised him I'd put one on his bedroom door so he could have privacy from Dudley when he needed it - then I didn't do it. I made that promise a week and a half ago, and I haven't kept it. Sure, I've been busy but I remembered to do one for Remus the same day he asked me. I'm a prat, you should divorce me."

"Totally," Lily agreed. "But you're my prat, so I'm going to keep you anyway. But I didn't even know about the lock, I was talking about something else entirely different."

"What else did I forget?"

"Make that what _we_ forgot. I'm just as guilty. We forgot about his shoes."

"No we didn't. I have them right here." As James dangled them by their laces to prove it, one of the laces snapped and the shoe dropped with a thud. "I see what you mean."

"When we first got him back he was so weak that I sent you to buy him some clothes since he only had the rags he was wearing, only you didn't know what size of shoes to get," Lily reminded him. "At first you were just going to fix the one's he had with magic, but when we found out that they had been Dudley's first and didn't even fit him, we insisted that we were just going to get him a brand new pair of his very own."

"I remember how his eyes lit up like the Christmas tree when we promised. And when he told us he hadn't ever had a brand new pair of shoes of his own, that he'd only worn Dudley's hand-me-downs, he looked at us as if couldn't quite believe it could happen."

"And then it didn't happen. Jimmy… why didn't it happen - how could we have forgotten something as basic as putting a decent pair of shoes on our own child?"

James shrugged and sighed heavily, "By the time he was feeling better the Christmas holiday was over and he was back in school."

"And then we got busy searching for Sev..."

"And we found Remus instead..."

"And then we got busy trying to find Sev again..."

"And Sirius turned up..."

"And then we looked for Sev again..."

"And we took Dudley in..."

"And then we found out about the new baby..."

"Life happens. Still, it doesn't excuse us for forgetting our promise to Harry." James stuck a finger in one side of the trainer until it came out a hole in the other. Then he waggled the finger at Lily. "We're pretty pitiful parents, sending him to school in these. The holes aren't quite as big as I first remembered but there are more of them. There isn't even enough left of the material to call them shoes, they're more tape than anything else. For Merlin's sake Lily why didn't he say something to us?"

"If you felt as if you weren't important to the two most important people in your life… would you have?"

"No… probably not," he admitted. "I feel like an ass kidding him about wearing the 'grunge look' the other night. No wonder he reacted as he did. Poor kid – now that I look back on it he probably thinks I was making fun of him and rubbing it in to boot."

Replaying the scene in his mind, James wanted to pull out his wand and '_Crucio'_ himself.

"Gods Lily! I didn't want anyone to refer to our son as a 'poor kid' anymore, and I just did myself. All I ever wanted was for him to think he had the most awesomest dad ever - not one who's the biggest jerk in the universe."

"And all I ever wanted was for him to think I was the most awesomest mummy ever. James… do you think we've unintentionally made him feel _so _unimportant to us that he doesn't even feel loved? Is that why he quit calling us mummy and daddy?"

"I don't know. But if that's all it is, I know how we can rectify it."

"How?"

"Got any of that construction paper left?" he asked with a grin.

"What's going on?" Dudley asked sleepily, flopping over heavily and peering over the edge of the top bunk to see what his aunt and uncle were doing in the darkened room.

"Shush honey… nothing's happening… go back to sleep now," Lily crooned at him, sliding Harry's dresser drawer shut before going over and tucking the flung off blankets back over the sleepy boy.

"Ha! I got it! And I didn't even wake him up." James chuckled softly with glee. He rolled up the construction paper and then tucked Harry's bare foot back under the covers. Kissing the top of his sleeping son's messy hair, he whispered in his ear, "I will do my best to never forget another promise. I love you and I'm going to make you see that if you'll just give me another chance."

The metallic sound of the door clicking shut roused Harry out of his dead slumber. It had sounded exactly like the lock to his cupboard door. That sound always meant trouble.

"Wha…? I'm getting up! I'm sorry Aunt Petunia! I didn't mean to oversleep!"

Dudley grunted in response from the other side of the room. "It was just your freaky parents you dork. They left. Go back to sleep - I did."

"Freaky? Whad'ya mean freaky? They aren't freaky! I'm the only freaky one here!" Harry defended them hotly, and then asked out of curiosity, "Er… what did they want?"

"Beat's me. Who knows what parents ever want? Mine don't make a lot of sense, and yours makes even less. They probably don't know themselves 'cause they rummaged through your stuff and then they didn't even take anything! Does that make sense? No! Completely nutters. Now quit talking to me 'cause I'm not talking to you!"

"Not that I care – but why? What do you think I did to you this time?"

"You lied to me for years and years and years, all the time you lived at my house, just so you could hog all the fun to yourself."

"Fun? What fun?" Harry honestly couldn't remember having any at Privet Drive.

"Cookery! You always acted so 'woe is me' - as if it was some big horrible chore when Mum asked you to cook for us. But it isn't a chore! It's fun! And you kept me from having any! So I'm mad at you! So there!"

Without even seeing him in the dark, Harry knew that Dudley had stuck his tongue out at him before he rolled over to turn his back, so he stuck his out in return and rolled over as well. "If you say so dummy," he remarked softly into his pillow.

"I HEARD THAT!" Dudley yelled.

"I thought you weren't talking to me!" Harry yelled back over his shoulder.

"I'M NOT! I'M YELLING AND THAT DOESN'T COUNT! I WIN! SO THERE!"

'…_does too, so I win...'_ This time Harry just thought it to himself. He didn't care to argue with Dudley all night - he was too worried about what the Kruegers might have been looking for. Restless, he got up and felt around until he found his favourite jumper and slipped it on over his pyjamas. Then he rescued his stuffed stag from where it had fallen on the floor and tucked it in bed next to the nest box. If they were going to take his prized possessions while he was asleep, then they were just going to have to take him too!


	16. A Patchwork Egg: part 11

Harry was understandably wary when he went into the kitchen for breakfast the next morning. He hadn't gotten much rest during the night as he kept expecting another parental raid. Slipping into his seat at the table he carefully eyed the adults around him. Dudley was right. They were all acting nutters.

His godfathers were busy explaining to Dudley how chocolate was the forgotten sixth of the basic food groups necessary for human life, which made it completely different from sugar. Dudley was looking greatly relieved, as he really did adore chocolate.

Mr. Krueger was busy entertaining his baby daughter by making funny faces and sticking Oatie-O's to his forehead to make her laugh.

"James! How many times do I have to say it?" Lily asked exasperated from the doorway, coming in with her hair still partway up in curlers and brandishing a cardboard tube like her wand. "Changing the bog roll does_ not _cause brain damage!"

"So says the brain damaged woman with the empty bog roll in her hand," James said in a loud whisper to Remus and Sirius obviously meant for overhearing, with a big wink to Harry. The three men all crossed their arms, plaster serious looks on their faces, and with a placating air nodded in agreement at Lily making her throw the empty roll at them.

Holly gurgled happily and clapped her hands causing the roll dropped out of mid air to land on her highchair tray before it hit any of them. She picked it up and started gnawing on the cardboard.

"Won't that hurt Holly? Her brain is real little yet." Harry was hesitant to ask but he was too worried about his baby sister getting brain damage not too.

"She's teething and it's just cardboard. I only said that to irk your mum," James admitted with a grin. "I just hate to change it. It's a pain how it keeps running out."

"Why?" Harry was so curious the question just popped out. He didn't think he'd ever do anything on purpose to make someone mad at him. He did it enough by accident!

"Why what? Why does it run out so fast? Why do I hate changing it? Or, why did I tease your mum about it?"

"Er… the last one."

"Do you remember what your godfathers told you about pranks? That if you didn't like the person that you wouldn't have bothered to plot against them in the first place?"

Harry nodded slowly, not sure what point he was trying to make.

"A little teasing now and then keeps the big issues from blowing up out of control later. So when I tease your mum it just means that I love her, or I wouldn't bother. Families fight Harry - its part life and part of what makes them work. No matter how much you love someone you won't always agree. But as long as you keep spite out of it, it can be fun. It clears the air, and it keeps things interesting. Besides, the making up afterwards can't be beat," he added with a another wink as Lily came back in and sat down at the table with them, curlers out and hair pulled loosely back with a becoming barrette.

"You wish," she said with a laugh to James and then turned to Harry. "Your dad is right sweetie. Sometimes families fight, or do things that bug each other. Sometimes they even misunderstand things, or forget things. But none of those things mean that they don't still love each other. I hope you understand that. Do you sweetie?"

Harry nodded again. He did understand. He didn't doubt that the Kruegers loved each other very much, even when they argued. He just wished they would love him too.

James and Lily exchanged smiles over his head. They had stayed up late plotting just how they were going to prove to Harry he was important to them and this was the first tiny step towards that. James had had the brilliant idea of tracing his foot and cutting the shape out as they had done to make the paper Easter lilies with their hands. Then on Friday when James was done with his job, and the boys were at school, they were going to leave Holly with Sirius and Remus and shop for Harry at the big mall at Kings Cross.

While James had been busy with the construction paper, Lily checked through Harry's clothes to see what else they should get him. It had been deep winter when they had found him so all his clothes were warm ones, then with the tender loving care they'd supplied, he had shot up several centimetres until he was almost as tall as his cousin was. All his jackets and jeans were too short now. Lily chided herself for not noticing. It was no wonder he wore that one jumper she had knitted him every single day! The loose yarn would stretch to cover his wrists where the woven material wouldn't.

They decided to surprise him for Easter with a whole new wardrobe of clothes for spring and summer. Using the paper footprint to ensure they got the right size, they were going to search the mall for the best trainers they could find - ones that would make Dudley jealous of Harry for a change.

"Do you have any other questions Harry? Any at all? About anything? I may not have the answers but I'll do my best to," James asked remembering the fifth wish. He and Lily had agreed that they would tackle every wish on that list where they were coming up short. Regarding the fifth wish they agreed that they hadn't exactly been as forthcoming as they could have about their past, responding mostly with the phrase that 'he would understand someday'. They also agreed to work on the fourth about making sure they were explaining things so he could understand them, and not just assume he did.

There were so many things that he was afraid to ask for fear of what the answers would be, but there was one thing that Harry was absolutely dying to know. He just wasn't sure that he should ask it in front of everyone.

James could see him struggling between the desire to ask another question and hesitation to do so. Thinking that the question might be something he was embarrassed to ask in front of his cousin, he leaned over and told Harry to whisper it in his ear.

"Is Uncle Remmy and Ms. Smythe the same person?"

"What? Absolutely not! Where did you get that bizarre idea?"

"Dudley," Harry admitted red faced from embarrassment at Mr. Krueger's laughter. He glared at his cousin. He knew he shouldn't have believed anything he said!

James quickly stilled his laughter at the question when he saw that Harry was dead serious. Looking around the table, everyone else was leaning in trying to listen. As the rumour originated with Dudley, James knew he'd have to clear up the matter of Remus' condition for both boys.

"No, Harry. Dudley was mistaken. Remus and Ms. Smythe are _not_ the same person."

"_Wha..?" _Remus choked on his food. Sirius just howled with laughter and pounded his friend on the back to dislodge the sausage.

"Then why does their hair keep changing colour? And why do they both have the same fingernails? Huh? Huh? And if that wasn't Uncle Remmy I saw downstairs, then who was it? Because Uncle Siri said it was!" Dudley demanded. He hated, absolutely hated, being told he was wrong about anything, almost as much as he hated being laughed at.

"I don't know what you were doing downstairs, when we told you it was off limits…" James started answering Dudley, pausing only to shoot Sirius a look that told him in no uncertain terms that he would be doing a lot of explaining later. "...but Uncle Siri was right, Remus was the only one down there. He wasn't feeling well and he took some untested medication. It just had a few unusual side effects, but there is nothing to worry about now. As you can see for yourself he's back to his old lovable self today."

Turning to Harry he asked, "Remember when I told you about Uncle Remmy's illness?" and Harry responded by nodding solemnly.

"Well that's why he took the medication even though he didn't know what the effect would be. He was only trying to protect us. He didn't know what would happen and he didn't mean to frighten or confuse anyone. Did you Remus?"

"Not at all, I wouldn't do that to either of you boys for the world." Remus smiled sadly. He had realized that Dudley had been acting a little strange after he had seen him, but he hadn't realized that Harry was upset with him as well.

"Do you understand?" James asked Harry.

Harry nodded, but Dudley piped up stubbornly with a "Well I don't understand at all! He looked just like Ms. Smythe! So if they aren't the same person then why aren't they ever in the same place at the same time? Huh! Answer me that!"

James glanced over to his mortified friend. "You're going to have to take that one Moony. I'm interested to know myself."

"Ah… well Dudley… that's because… ah… Ms. Smythe always scared the socks off from me when I worked at your school. So I… ah… I hid in the closet whenever I saw her coming," he shrugged sheepishly.

His admission made both James and Sirius break up in laughter again despite Lily trying to shush them by saying that 'Virgie isn't that bad'. Then she made them laugh even harder when she called Remus 'a big chicken when it came to females', whereupon, Sirius started clucking and strutting like a bird to make fun of his friend.

All the good-natured give and take made Harry long to have them make fun of him as well. They were so fun loving about it he didn't think he would mind at all - if Dudley weren't the one doing the doing. Dudley tended to be more on the spiteful side.

Uncle Remmy offered to walk them to school that morning, telling the others that it would feel good to get some fresh air and stretch his legs. Uncle Siri said it would feel good to him too, and then pouted in the corner when Lily told him to 'stay'. It was only when she plopped his favourite playmate, baby Holly, on his lap did he cheer back up.

Remus tried to make small talk with the boys on the way to school, to make sure they were both okay with him being around, but all he could get out of either one were one word answers - mostly 'uhuh' and 'yeah'. Harry was too deep in thought, and surprisingly for a change so was Dudley. After Remus dropped them off at the corner of the playground, Dudley stared after him until he disappeared around the corner, giving them both a tentative wave as he did so. Harry waved back. Dudley did not.

"I still say it's all jiggery-pokery."

"What do you mean?"

"Well - if he's not Ms. Smythe, then how do you explain her?"

"I don't know what you're getting after," Harry cocked his head puzzled.

"Quit being a gormless dummy." Dudley rolled his eyes and sighed heavily as if he was explaining something so obvious that a two year old would understand. "Her being so whacked like she is made sense if she was Uncle Remmy - because you can't deny he is. But if she's _not _Uncle Remmy - then _what _is she?"

"I dunno. What do you think she is?"

"The only thing left is one of those brain sucking vampires like Gordon's sister."

"Oh come on! They don't really exist!" Harry hooted incredulously.

Dudley shook his head firmly and his eyes got big. "It's true. They're real. We all hid up in his tree house last summer and watch her suck the brains out of at least ten guys on their back porch. The noises were horrible! Besides, it's the only thing that 'splains why she'd fancy our teacher. He isn't exactly prime boyfriend material. He's old and mean."

"That's true," Harry agreed.

"She must need a new victim to satisfy her wanton desires," Dudley concluded knowledgeably as the pair entered the classroom.

"What are wanton desires?"

"I dunno. It's what mum is always saying that any girl who smiles at dad has."

"Your dad is kind of old and mean too," Harry said sitting down at his desk.

"Exactly dimwit," Dudley agreed first and then punched Harry in the arm real hard for having said it second, before going to his own seat and sitting down.

Mr. Nathraichean swept into the room just as the last child settled into their seat. After his customary roll call glare-down, and his homework gathering and mocking session, he launched into lecturing on who-knows-what. All Dudley heard him saying for the next two hours was 'Blah blah blah blah blah blah'. All Harry heard was Dudley's taunting voice first calling him a dummy and then a dimwit. Harry rubbed his arm where Dudley had socked him and thought about what he'd said.

Harry would agree that he wasn't always the smartest kid in their class, and Dudley did have a lot more worldly experience. He would also admit that Dudley's reasoning put a whole new light on the principal's assistant that he wouldn't have ever thought of on his own. Only he never thought he was exactly stupid until this morning.

Normally Harry wouldn't have been all that sensitive to a few snide remarks from Dudley, but it brought into focus the conversation at breakfast with the Kruegers. It had been weird. They kept going out of their way to stop the conversation, look directly at him, and ask him if he understood what they were saying. Did they think he was so stupid that he couldn't follow a conversation anymore? They didn't stop to ask Dudley that that question - just him. By the time the morning recess period arrived Harry was convinced that the Kruegers must think him a total idiot.

Severus watched Potter as the classroom emptied. The boy had been preoccupied all morning and not paid attention to a single word he'd said. If he asked him now if grass was orange and the sky purple, he was sure he would just nod that uncombed head of his and agree. Clearly, something was wrong... again. Severus sighed.

"What is it Mister..._'Krueger'_? You might as well get it over with and spit it out, for until you do there will be no worthwhile progress made toward anything else."

"Am I gormless?"

"Not when you apply yourself diligently."

"So... I am... _sometimes_?"

"Everyone is from time to time."

"Even you?"

Severus ground his teeth at the question. "Yes Mister..._'Krueger'_ even me. On the _very _rare occasion," he qualified.

"Oh..." that made Harry feel a little bit better. Maybe he had just been acting as stupid as Dudley had this morning and that's why they had acted so weird towards him. Wait a minute... as stupid as Dudley? Harry suddenly felt a lot better about it and grinned out of happiness. His plan must finally be working if they thought he was as stupid as Dudley!

Severus mistook the cause for Harry's pleased grin, as his admission of occasional failure. It grated his soul like one of the marauder's pranks. The more Harry grinned - the more Severus scowled. Fine. He had no more time to dither around with nonsense.

"If that was all that was preying on your miniscule mind - we shall proceed with today's vocabulary lesson forthwith." Severus strode to the blackboard and wrote in tall letters 'A - L - L - Y', and then underlined them twice for emphasis. "Describe the word."

"Er... ally...um... Sir? Do you want the noun or the verb?"

"Very good Mister..._'Krueger'_. You can use the word either way. However, let us limit this discourse to the noun form to give counterbalance to our prior discussion of traitors."

"Okay... let's see... ally... it's a noun from Latin I think meaning 'to bind to'."

"Once again, I applaud you. I can see you studied, and I am pleasantly surprised. Now explain how that is different from yesterday's word."

Harry glowed from the praise. "Well... a traitor is someone who pretends to be a friend, and an ally is someone who really is."

"Have you noticed any similar pairing in the other words we have been discussing?"

"Um... sort of... bona fide and proper both mean that something really is real, where duplicity and pretence both mean that something is just pretending to be real. Do you mean like that?"

"Precisely. Any others?"

"I'm not sure... maybe... if you're an admirable person people give you respect, but if you're an oppressor you just take it."

"What about maniacs - what did you learn of those?"

"Er... to run away as fast as I can?"

"Splendid!" Severus was fairly bursting with pride at his little Slytherin-in-the-making as he started to erase the board. "This lesson is over."

"Er... Sir? May we discuss the verb form of ally first?" Harry asked tentatively raising his hand - might as well take advantage of his teacher's mood to answer questions.

Severus narrowed his eyes but granted the request with a nod to go ahead.

"As a verb - to ally means to 'unite for a mutual benefit'... and I thought we could ally."

"Rephrase."

"Well... I wondered if I could do something for you and you could do something for me."

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Er... a question?"

"Then elucidate. Your sentence structure is abominable to the point where you are not even sure yourself what you are saying."

"What?"

"Start over. Explain. More details are required." Severus growled.

"Er... right. Okay. The thing is... I need to earn some money to... er... buy something... and I was wondering... er... hoping that is... that you might have some chores I could do for you around the classroom... and you might pay me for them... so I could... er... buy something... like I said."

Severus eyebrows formed a vee. Irritating boy - he still hadn't asked a question.

"So... do you? Er... will you? Hire me that is?" Harry looked hopefully at his teacher.

"If I were to agree, what is it you wish to purchase with this wellspring of new funds?"

"Er... trainers..." Harry blushed embarrassed and tucked his feet under his chair.

Severus narrowed his eyes until they were mere slits. The boy did need new shoes - that was beyond question. The weekly muggle stipend from the Headmaster had reached him via owl post in the alleyway that morning, so it wasn't a question of money preventing Severus from acquiescing to Potter's request for a job. It was more a question of why the boy's caretakers had not already provided the needed equipment.

"If you are in want, why have not these..._'Kruegers'..._ of yours purchased them for you?"

"Like Dudley said, they don't want to waste any money on me if they aren't going to keep me," Harry replied sadly.

"Are they not appreciating your efforts to date?" Severus asked with raised eyebrows. Potter had shown enough improvement in overcoming his Gryffindor tendencies, with superior Slytherin traits, that even a muggle should have been able to notice the marked difference in the boy's behaviour.

"After this morning, I think I'm getting closer... it just may not be soon enough because I only have today and tomorrow left for lessons. And if they send me back this weekend I know the Dursley's won't buy me any, so if I don't get them now, I won't _ever_ get them!"

Severus studied the boy. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, leaning forward in anticipation of his teacher's decision - barely maintaining control of his limitless energy. Only due to his Slytherin training, he _was_ controlling it. The boy did deserve a reward.

"Very well Mister..._'Krueger', _I will hire you to run some errands for me..."

"**YAY!" **Harry sprung out of his seat like a rocket and before Severus knew it, the boy had his arms locked around his neck in a stranglehold.

"..._**If **_you unhand me you vexing child!" Severus snarled fondly, the 'fond' part being that he didn't immediately push Harry away.

"Yes Sir! Anything you say Sir! What can I do for you Sir?" Harry saluted and stood at attention, grinning from ear to ear and awaiting his first order as his teacher's new devoted employee.

"I sent a note to the temporary librarian to order in some new readers for the class. It is most puzzling but somehow we have managed to complete the set assigned before the end of the school year." Harry grinned wider. He knew why. The teacher loved to assign reading to keep them quiet when they were noisy - and they were noisy _a lot_.

"The books should have arrived by now. You may go ascertain if they have indeed arrived, and if so return with them. It will save me a trip past the office."

Harry was off like a shot. Severus chuckled inwardly. Yes indeed - this arrangement should benefit him splendidly. If he worked it right, he might be able to avoid Ms. Smythe for the remainder of his mission. Only Harry hadn't been gone even a minute when Severus looked up from his grading to find the avoidee in question posed seductively in his classroom doorway. One finger in her mouth, Virgie Smythe drew it out and proceeded to wet her lips with the cherry red tip that matched her curls.

"I have scads of important paperwork to do in the office, but I saw you were all... alone. So... alone. No family... no wife... no child... no one but little ol' me. So I came to keep you... company. Did you miss me... big boy?" she asked low and breathlessly.

Severus' left eyebrow started to twitch. The only way she could have known that Potter had left the room, was if she had been skulking in the janitor's closet spying on him. "Not in the slightest. Nevertheless, if I promise to miss you in the future - will you go away?"

Virgie flung her head back and laughed lightly. "Oh there you go - teasing me again. Tee-hee! If you keep it up Jeffy-Poo, I might get the wrong idea."

"I am certain that you won't, unless done intentionally on your part Ms. Smythe."

"Ha-ha! It's Virgie to you... I decided to give you another chance."

"None was requested. However, I did requisition more red pens. Do you have them?"

Taking advantage of the tiny bit of positive conversation he offered, Virgie invited herself into the classroom unbidden, swinging her hips so the lace edge of her silk slip peeked out from under the frothy hem of her new spring skirt flirtatiously. She had splurged over half of her last paycheck on the outfit. Unfortunately, she swung a little too much and the lace caught the handle of the pencil sharpener as she went by.

_...rrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiip!..._

Thrown off balance when her slip pulled one way and her spiky heels went the other, Virgie startled Severus by landing with a 'plop!' on his lap.

"My hero! You saved me!" Virgie couldn't have planned it better if she'd tried. Flinging her arms around his neck, she started to plant a kiss on his lips as a reward.

Before Severus could stand up and dump her on the ground, Harry returned from his errand. Stopping in his tracks in the doorway, he dropped the load of library books he was carrying, took a deep breath, and without another thought and let out an ear-splitting hair-raising scream.

Virgie immediately jumped off from Severus' lap and covered her ears. "Stop that vile noise this instant you wretched urchin! Jeffy-Poo please! Make him stop!"

After he caught his breath and shook the feeling of Ms. Smythe's assault off from him, Severus responded to her request in a bemused tone. "Really Ms. Smythe, I see no need to resort to the juvenile practice of name calling. As you work with children all day, I'm sure you are aware children are highly unpredictable and capricious creatures with no sense of decorum. Mister…'_Krueger' … _is merely acting true to form."

"But he's giving me a splitting headache!" Virgie wailed as Harry's unrelenting high-pitched screams started drawing the attention of the other nearby teachers who were taking a break from their students by hiding from them in their classrooms during the recess period.

As much as Severus could sympathize with Virgie's plight (as he had the same reaction on a daily basis), he was relieved at Potter's opportune interruption. Ms. Smythe's attentions were getting far too familiar for his comfort.

"He's good at that." Severus stated succinctly, making no move whatsoever to muffle Harry, instead raising his voice so to be sure she heard him. "Now as delightful as this little tête-à-tête has been Ms. Smythe, if you feel you must cut this conversation short, and drag yourself away for health concerns, I will understand completely."

"Well I never!" Virgie gasped. Her knight's shining armour was becoming slightly dented.

"While that may be true, it certainly isn't something I desire to remedy. Did you not mention having important paperwork to complete? Please don't let us keep you."

Virgie glared at Harry as she swept out of the room. She cursed her bad luck to have run across someone who embodied such ill timing toward her plans as that child did. It was almost as if he had appointed himself sentry over her love interest, with the sole intent of driving her away. After she turned the corner at the far end of the hall, and all the curious fellow teachers had returned to their lukewarm teas and crossword puzzles, Severus folded his arms and tapped his toe at Harry.

"Now Mister…_'Krueger'_… explain yourself. What was that rapacious scene for?"

"I thought she was a vampire…" Harry explained sheepishly.

"A vampire? She may give off that aura, but still, I highly doubt it."

"But she is and I had to stop her! She was going to snog you and suck out all your brains and leave you a witless doofus like Gordon's sister's boyfriends!" Harry exclaimed earnestly.

"Indeed." The only thing that betrayed the warm glow that was starting to grow inside Severus was the small twitch in the corner of his left eye, offset by a slightly raised right eyebrow.

Harry gathered up the dropped readers and deposited them with a clatter on the corner of his teacher's desk, then turned back to address him in all seriousness. "Well I couldn't let that happen. Could I? If you don't have any brains left, how can you finish helping me find my potential?"

"Ah…I see. It was only a matter of practicality then," disillusionment calming Severus' twitch and levelling his brows.

"Of course, just like you've been teaching me!"

"'As I have been teaching you'? How so?" Severus was baffled as to what Potter could mean by that. He knew he had absolutely not presented any lesson plans around 'snogging' or any of the related sordid topics, to his class of impressionable nine-year-olds. In fact, he had done his utmost best to sidestep all discussions of a personal nature unless the little beasts trapped him with no way out. Even then, he was tight lipped. In his opinion, that type of education was what parents and playgrounds were for, and Potter's source seemed to be of the playground variety.

"Yeah, it's what Salazar would have done!" Harry said nodding his head with conviction.

Severus tried to picture the brooding Salazar Slytherin coming to his aid by screaming his head off like a small child. The unlikely image brought back the slightly raised eyebrow. Then he thought of his nest of snakes back in the dungeons at Hogwarts and snorted inwardly. After taking one look at the same scene Potter had walked in on, instead of coming to his aid in fending off the woman's advances, they would have captured the moment in a pensieve as fodder for future blackmail. The thought brought back the small facial twitch, only this time its cause was disappointment that he wasted perfectly good Slytherin lessons on someone who would undoubtedly turn out to be a Hufflepuff at best, if this incident was a culmination of what he had learned.

Noticing his teacher's ever so slight negative response to his declaration, Harry added with less confidence "….wouldn't he? Scream that is? It does start with the letter 's'. Its lots scarier than something like stomping my feet, swearing, or even singing. Although… my singing is quite bad, Dudley says I can't carry a tune even in a bucket."

It was a twisted sort of crude childish logic, but one that Severus could almost rationalize as Slytherin in nature if he tried hard enough, although if the Headmaster were here he would have pointed out the stronger Gryffindor virtues of loyalty and courage in the child's motivation. _'Ha-ha - but he's not here!'_ Severus thought to himself as he happily ignored the obvious in favour of the almost giddy feeling he felt as he proudly surveyed his little soon-to-be-a-Slytherin-after-all.

"Yes indeed my boy screaming does start with an 's'. I am sure that is exactly what Salazar would have done, only perhaps with less vibrato," he agreed. To his shock, the words 'my boy' slipped as naturally off his tongue as did the silky lie.

Undoubtedly, Harry would have rewarded him with his third impromptu hug for the day - which was three over his limit of none - had not the class returned from their morning frolic to interrupt them. This time however, Severus had a hard time not smiling back every time that he glanced in Potter's direction and caught the happy grin on his face.

Merlin! What had he done?

The rest of the morning Severus made a point of calling on Harry often so that he could ridicule his answers. It was his purposeful attempt to neutralize the prior damage his spontaneous and inadvisable bout of 'niceness' had perpetrated. Nevertheless, no matter how disparaging he was to the boy, Potter kept smiling back. What was even more irritating was that all he succeeded in doing by this harsh treatment of Potter - was to put a happy grin on Potter's cousin face as well.

Their twin expressions of happiness aggravated him to the point he made them both stay in detention over the lunch period - on opposite sides of the room facing the wall so that he didn't have to see their grinning faces while he ate.

Harry didn't mind, as he knew his teacher was paying to do it. Meter running, he happily munched away on his lunch, which consisted of a thermos of hot homemade tomato soup, a thick ham sandwich that Mrs. Krueger had cut into a heart shape and a banana she'd drawn a happy face on with a big black marker, and dreamed about the new trainers he would buy. He knew that they wouldn't be anything like Dudley's, because those the Dursley always bought for his cousin at the large shopping mall at Kings Cross. However, the little corner store did carry a few cheap off-market brands and discontinued styles. Harry didn't care as long as they fit and didn't have holes.

Dudley _did_ mind, because (despite his best intentions) he hadn't woken up all that early that morning. He had gotten up early enough to make omelettes for brekki, but not early enough to make his self a lunch as well, at least not when Uncle Siri insisted again that he wash up the pans that he'd used. While he was busy, Uncle Remmy had made his lunch. Dudley had been dreading opening the sack all morning. Now without being able to join the others in the cafeteria he didn't have anyone to trade his lunch with but his stupid cousin who somehow got him into this mess to begin with. Sure enough, the sandwich was Uncle Remmy's favourite - peanut butter with an apple for dessert_. _YUCK! Well at least he had soup.

The afternoon went considerably better for Severus. Potter was still far too happy, making him a lost cause for now, but at least the Dursley boy wasn't smiling anymore. Therefore, he concentrated his teaching efforts on that side of the room.

As his teacher called on him yet another time to go to the board for a maths problem, Dudley got even unhappier. He didn't know how Harry was doing it, when all Harry was doing was sitting there grinning like some sort of fool who didn't know any better, but Dudley knew that he was the one causing him the anguish of having to learn something.

It was with utter relief that Dudley, and the other ten boys and girls who sat on the right side of the room, heard the bell ring for afternoon recess.

Harry was relieved to see Dudley go as well. He rather enjoyed his 'Dud-free' time and missed having his teacher to himself whenever Dudley managed to horn in on his detention sessions. Sitting up as straight and still as he could, he waited expectantly for another errand. This was the hard part of his job - waiting...

...and waiting...

...and waiting...

...and waiting...

...and waiting...

Harry finally stood down from attention and got the egg out of his desk to tend to it. At least the little creature inside was never too busy to talk to him. He put his head down on his desk so that his eyes were at egg level. Feeling the shell, it seemed as though it were starting to bulge along the lines of the cracks.

"Mr. Nathraichean!"

"What is it? I am trying to think."

"But this is important! I think the egg is hatching!"

Severus went over to examine the egg. After lightly touching the mended shell, he sat it back down carefully into Harry's palm.

"It is indeed close to becoming a hatchling, but it is not quite ready. Perhaps another day is all. It may be wise to leave it here tonight so that I may look after it for you. When I mended the shell, I made it very strong. It will not be able to hatch on its own when the time comes."

"But it will be okay... won't it?"

"With my help - most likely. However, as I told you before, there is always the possibility with any birth that something may go wrong."

"It won't," Harry stated absolutely, looking at him with large trusting eyes.

"I will do my best. That is all I can promise. Now let me think."

Harry laid the egg back down on the desktop and started whispering to it quietly enough that he wouldn't annoy his teacher. "I'm glad you're okay. If I have, any money left over from my errand money I'll buy you a nice pillow to sleep on after you hatch. Mr. Nathraichean is paying me to run errands for him, but he's too busy thinking right now to send me on any. Do you think that when he's thinking, that he's thinking of paying me for this time anyway?"

The egg rolled slightly back and forth as if the creature was shaking its head 'no'.

Harry sighed. That was what he thought too. He was certain his teacher would pay him for his time during lunch because he had given him an order to carry out and he'd done it, but so far this afternoon he had barely acknowledged that he was even in the room. If he didn't want to send him on errands for him, then the least he could do was talk to him!

Wait a minute... what was it about talking to his teacher he was supposed to remember?

'OH NO!' Harry sat up with a start. He was supposed have told his teacher the very first thing that morning that Mrs. Krueger was intending to come to school today a few minutes before class got out for a the parent teacher conference! She had said that she didn't want his teacher to be annoyed if she interrupted a lesson, and then tied a string around his finger to remind him. She had even told him what to say. Harry fingered the string and glanced up at his teacher. It was too late. He was already annoyed.

Severus was annoyed - at Ms. Smythe. First, she had jump to the conclusion that he was a widower, and now she had added the loss a child to the mix. She must have rifled through his desk, seen Potter's picture and assumed that it was his own. Would the impression that he had lost his entire family slow her advances? Probably not, he scoffed. It would only reinforce the idea that he was the 'marrying kind'. Chances were greater that before that she would now decide that he 'needed saved from the pit of despair' and appoint herself his rescuer. Severus glowered at the thought.

An outside observer would note with irony that it was remarkable how quickly time rewrote the scene, until it was not he who had purposely tried to lead her to the erroneous impression that he had a 'relationship history', in the hopes that if he were lucky it would remove the fascination she had for him. However, as Severus himself admitted that had no luck at all, it had undoubtedly done the opposite.

Severus let out a long sigh of frustration. Would this never end?

"Mr. Nathraichean?" a small voice from the back of the room queried.

"What is it now?" Severus snapped.

"Er… you said not to sigh."

"And your point being?"

"You sighed. I heard you."

"Quit being impertinent."

"Yes Sir," Harry sighed and put his head back down on the desk, he guessed his teacher wasn't in the mood for another message from Mrs. Krueger…_ especially_ not the one she said to tell him, even though he wasn't supposed to use those kinds of words himself.

"And don't sigh."

"Yes Sir," Harry replied darkly while wondering again, why it was okay for adults to do the same thing that they tell you _not_ to do.

Harry waited some more, then talked to the egg some more, then waited some more. By the end of detention, Harry wasn't smiling any longer either. The teacher hadn't sent him on any more errands, and he hadn't given him any additional potential lessons either. Harry worried if when his teacher had announced during morning detention that 'the lesson was over', that he had meant_ all _the lessons were over - he hoped not, but what else could he think? He tried to get up the nerve to ask but by the time he got close the class was back.

It was getting very close to Easter Holiday and all the little boys and girls were quite hyper. The little girls had all worn their new Easter dresses that day to show them off, which prompted all the little boys to do their best to get all the little girls dirty during recess. The little girls came back in tears, with mud balls splats all over their skirts.

Severus inspected the little girls dresses for damage, and thanks to the wand hidden up his sleeve, one-by-one each dress was certified to be mud free. "See Miss Hendricks? It was merely a bit of stray dirt that brushed right off. Now blow," he instructed holding a hanky to her dripping nose before repeating the process with the next little girl.

Inspection over, and everyone back in their desks, Severus stood in front of the rowdy class and surveyed them with narrow eyes. Children could be so unreasonably demanding. He would have to do something to put a stop to their 'Easter Mania'.

"Very well, if you desire me to orchestrate some classroom 'fun' in honour of the Easter Holiday, you may have it your way," the teacher said solicitously, to see twenty one happy little faces beam back at him. The twenty-second face didn't look happy at all at the concession, but then it belonged to Harry and he knew better.

Harry knew that Mr. Nathraichean never gave in that easily, unless it was something he wanted all along. It was one of Salazar's rules: If you do unto others, make sure you get something out of it.

"For 'fun' you may write a short essay on the following topic: If said Easter Bunny were to leave anything that you desire in your basket this year, what would it be, and why do you feel you deserve the same… say five inches."

To the groans that followed he added, "In the spirit of the holiday, and since I am feeling magnanimous, you may have fifteen minutes to complete it, five minutes for each inch."

"But Mr. Nathraichean!" Dudley howled in protest.

"You have an issue with the assigned fun Mister Dursley?"

"Essays aren't fun!"

"They are for me." Severus countered showing teeth and causing the children to cringe.

"But that's not what we meant!" Dudley unwisely persisted.

"Then you should have been more specific in your activity request."

"But it's not fair! _Nobody_ can write an essay in just fifteen minutes," he whinged pathetically.

"Far be it from me to be _unfair_," he sneered at the blond boy and then addressed the class. "Class - Mister Dursley is requesting more time. I will extend that additional benefit to all. Anyone who is not done within the time allotted may continue having fun with their Easter assignment tonight and hand it in on the morrow…" then Dudley's face fell completely as he finished his stipulation, "…however, with increased time also comes increased length, say fifteen inches. Your time starts now."

Severus sat back and smirked, pleased with his idea as the all the children (except Dudley who sat there huffily with his arms crossed and a petulant scowl on his face) scurried to find paper and pencils.

Ah blessed silence! As it was now a quarter to three, the assignment was guaranteed to keep them all busy until class let out for the day, then all he would have to do is… blast it! Severus frowned as the ramification of his clever inspiration hit him. Now he would have to grade the ruddy things, and he had no more red pens. Why, oh why, did he insist on perpetuating his own misery!

Severus glared at his class. Asking for a 'fun' classroom project indeed! The evil little munchkins instigated this nefarious plot for the sole purpose of tricking him into having to seek out Ms. Smythe, and he fell for it!

The smothered giggles when he announced his intention to run an errand to the office, cemented his suspicions - and their fate. He would get retribution by assigning one page of math problems as homework for each minute of torture he had to endure at the well-manicured claws of the principal's assistant.

One small hand rose from the back of the class before he could leave.

"What is it Mister..._'Krueger'_?"

"Er... I thought I was going to run errands for you?"

"Teacher's pet! Teacher's pet!" Dudley chanted and soon the entire class started following his lead.

"During detention, and this is not detention." Severus hadn't meant to snap Potter's head off, but he was irritated that he hadn't thought to send him earlier during that very time. Now it was too late now. Seeing Harry's face fall, he added more gently, "I believe you can understand why it would not be wise to extend it to other areas of the day. I gave the entire class an assignment - it applies to you as well."

Harry looked deflated, but he nodded that he did and went back to his assignment.

Severus' parting look to the class threatened in no uncertain terms that he would know if they so much as sneezed while he was gone. He was tempted to send Mister Dursley in his stead, as he did not seem want to take part in 'the fun' with the other students. Only he couldn't now, not without completely demoralizing Potter to whom he already denied the job. Besides, he had no desire to participate in another fire drill so late in the day.

Not five minutes after he left, Lily optimistically poked her head in the door.

She had arrived a full ten minutes early to pick the boys up from school as promised. Being this early, she was sure today was the day she would finally meet the teacher who was having such a profound influence on her son.

Lately, whenever she and James had gotten Harry to say anything, all they had heard was 'Mr. Nathraichean said this' and 'Mr. Nathraichean said that'. Lily jealously thought that to her son, this Mr. Nathraichean of his could practically walk on water. James kept telling her to give the bloke a break, and to leave the teaching to him, but Lily was ready to hex the pathetic stick-in-the-mud into oblivion. Only before she did she was willing to meet him for herself.

As she slipped into the back of the classroom, she was disappointed to find only the students, who were diligently writing as fast as they could, even with no teacher in sight. Other than the scritching of pencils, not a sound could be heard. With their heads bent over their papers, none of them had seen her enter so she took the opportunity to glance around her former classroom with a critical eye.

Gone were the bulletin boards overflowing with the childish drawings of budding artists that had graced the room when she taught here. Neatly posted lists of assignments and rigid schedules had replaced them all. The craft closet had a chain and padlock on it, and the craft corner itself looked as though it had never been used. Even the haphazard bookshelves in the reading nook, which had been overflowing with storybooks during her tenure, were now all neat and tidy, and if she were not mistaken, sorted in alphabetical order by author.

The classroom was methodically organized. Nothing was out of place, the only bright spots being the children themselves, and a solitary vase of colourful paper lilies.

That small concession to the orderliness of the room touched Lily's jealous heart. She recognized one she had made herself, as well as one of James hand and one of Holly's the majority of the rest were Harry's with a few of Dudley's thrown in. She was grateful for Harry's sake that the teacher hadn't rejected his gift, but at the same time, she regretted showing him how to make them, seeing where they ended up.

Although she was reluctant to admit it, maybe James was right and Mr. Nathraichean wasn't such a bad teacher after all. To have honoured Harry's effort, and allowed the silly lopsided flowers to grace his otherwise barren desk, meant that the man must be more insightful to the tender emotions of children than for what she had credited him.

Lily continued to watch and observe the children silently as she waited for their teacher to return. Fondly her eyes roamed over to her own son, his head atilt, hair sticking up, his upper teeth worrying his bottom lip - just as his father's did while concentrating on a particularly weighty problem. She was so proud of him she couldn't help but smile.

Then she glanced at Dudley and watched as her nephew took out paper and finally started to write with the others. A little slower to follow directions, she thought critically, but still the teacher had somehow managed to get him to do it where she hadn't when she taught him. Considering Dudley had inherited both of his parents' stubborn streaks, she wondered what Mr. Nathraichean had said to bring that change about.

As the final bell rang, the children all rushed forward to deposit their papers on the teacher's desk. Then spying Mrs. Krueger in the back of the room, they ran excitedly to greet her. She had been one of their favourite teachers during the year, and had always had set aside time everyday for something fun, from teaching them a new song, playing a game, or reading a story to them while they all sat around her in a semi-circle.

"Mrs. Krueger! Come see my pets!" Katie jumped up and down excitedly. "I'm teaching them how to roll over!"

"Mrs. Krueger! Do you like my new dress?" Annie asked twirling like a ballerina.

"Mrs. Krueger! Are you coming back?" Malcolm asked hopefully, only to get an elbow in his ribs courtesy of Dudley.

"Children! Children! Calm down!" Lily laughed musically, "Your dress is lovely Annie, and I am sure your pets are quite clever Katie. Malcolm, sorry but no, I'm not. I only came by to pick up Harry and Dudley, and to talk with Mr. Nathraichean. Do you know where he is?"

All the little girls exchanged meaningful looks and burst out in giggle fits. "He went to see his girlfriend! He went to see his girlfriend!" they singsonged in unison.

"I see." Lily said shortly, her lips pressing into a firm line. Her fledging respect for the man burst into flames with the knowledge that he had deserted his class during the workday, in favour of amorous pursuits. "It's already three. I sent a note for him to wait for me. When do you expect him back?"

The question reminded the children that the bell had rung and if they were quick about it that they might get away before their teacher returned and assigned homework.

"Er… don't know! They're prob'ly kissing somewheres! Gotta go! Bye Mrs. Krueger!" Gordon called out grabbing his coat and book bag and dashing out the door, the rest of the children following closely on his heels, leaving desks askew and rows of toppled chairs behind them in their haste.

"C'mon Auntie Lily! Let's go too!" Dudley pulled on her arm and whinged.

"Dudley, quit it. What's the rush? I really want to stay for a few minutes and talk with your teacher." Lily admonished him.

"But if we're still here when he gets back he'll give us homework! And Uncle Siri will make me work on it _all night long_!" Dudley wailed and continued to tug, while Harry just stood by, nodding solemnly in agreement. When his cousin was right, he was right.

"If that happens, I promise I will make sure Sirius doesn't make you do all night Dudley. I want to talk with him, and he's expecting me. We will wait." Lily said firmly.

Pouting, Dudley flopped in his seat and scowled darkly. His own mum wouldn't have made him wait. His own mum would have driven him home. His own mum would have stopped and bought him an ice on the way! He was really starting to miss his own mum.

"Er..." Harry gulped and looked at the ground nervously. He'd better tell her.

"Yes sweetie?"

"I- ah... I forgot to tell him you were coming."

"Harry! You told me you understood how important it was!"

"I'm sorry. Guess I'm just as stupid as Dudley," he added, hopeful that she would agree.

"No you're not sweetie!" she rushed to assure him, crushing his hopes, but meaning to do the opposite.

"Hey!" Dudley protested both of their comments.

"Boys! Let me start over - neither of you are stupid. You are both very smart and special to me, and anyone can forget sometimes. It isn't a big deal. We'll just wait a little longer than I expected. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"Oh goody - homework here I come," Dudley muttered and flopped back down in his seat to wait in protest.

When it reached a quarter past the hour, Lily finally gave up waiting for the absent teacher because she needed to get back to the flat to feed Holly. It was just exasperating. She didn't know which was worse: Mr. Nathraichean's dereliction of duty, Dudley's pouting, or Harry sitting stiffly in his seat 'practicing' as he called it.

"Okay fine, we'll go." She announced to Dudley's cheers and Harry's quiet acceptance. She was frustrated that he'd thwarted her attempt once again. It was almost as if the aggravating man was evading her on purpose.

The only one Mr. Nathraichean was trying avidly to avoid was Ms. Virginnia Smythe. Unhappily, he had walked right into her lair. Worse, he had done it on purpose. When he had arrived, the Principal's assistant had just come out of the supply closet and was delighted to run smack into the tall dark and illusive substitute teacher that she had been trying to lure there for weeks.

"Oh Jeffy-Poo! How lovely! I didn't hear you come in." Virgie Smythe laughed and tossed back her hair to show off her new earrings, long dangling golden chains of heart shaped links, each ending with a tiny golden wedding bell that chimed when she moved.

'_The better to hear you with...' _Severus thought uncharitably, while out loud he replied coolly, "I have asked you to_ not_ call me that. The name is Jeffrey P. Nathraichean. If you must call me something you may call me Mr. Nathraichean."

"I'm just being friendly…_Jeffy-Poo_, but I do like the name Nathraichean too. It's a very unusual name, very…_strong_… and very…_virile_." Virgie reached out and felt his bicep, coming so close he could smell the minty mouthwash she used, and he wasn't even breathing deep. "And rather…_ exotic_," she said breathily heavily, batting her false eyelashes at him and reminding him of the adjective he'd used to describe her.

'_The better to see you with...' _I must nip this in the bud, he thought with a tinge of panic. "I do not wish to be – _friendly_, Ms. Smythe. I am only here to request more red pens."

"Virgie, please. My, you do seem to be going through a lot of red pens. I am rather fond of… red myself." Twirling a tendril of vibrant red hair around her finger and then pushing it behind her ear to make sure he noticed how it glowed, she smiled seductively to show off her newly capped teeth that she got to go with it.

'_The better to eat you with...' _Severus noticed uncomfortably how her gleaming white, and unnaturally sharp teeth, reminded him of those of a werewolf, making him once again wonder what ever happened to the batch of Canadian wolfsbane the apothecary had resold out from under him. Suddenly noticing Virgie was still clinging hopefully to his arm he broke out of his speculation and took two steps back.

"I am grading essay work of nine-year-old dunderheads. It requires a vast quantity of red ink. I would like a full dozen."

"You know… _Jeffy-Poo…_ we have a lot in common. I'm very interested in words too… take my name - Virginnia… that means 'maiden'... as in _'matrimonially available'_," she giggled coquettishly. "Nathraichean - that's Scottish isn't it?"

"Considering the source, it is more than likely. Now do you have red pens or not?"

Severus impatiently brushed off the hand that was once again fondling his arm. Wouldn't the woman _ever_ be professional? She kept prattling on, making no sense whatsoever.

"I looked it up in a book the library the other day. A name can tell so much about a person - don't you think?"

"I avoid any such frivolous analysis."

"'Nath-ray-key-an'..." she sounded it out. "So musical! I just looove music and dancing."

"I do not."

"The name means 'snake', a large… black… adder… if I'm not mistaken," she looked up at him rather breathless and expectant.

"I highly doubt that you are." Snape replied in his low even monotone.

One slightly raised hair in the centre of his left eyebrow, the only trace of surprise on his stone cold features.

'_Why that manipulative old reprobate! There is no way he pulled that name out of the sorting hat. He had to have PLANNED this entire teaching fiasco! It was likely he even obliviated the permanent teacher, so she wouldn't remember to come back and I'd be stuck in the middle of this muggle munchkin-land, babysitting his precious golden boy!'_

"Did you know that if you assign numeric values to every letter in our names - Jeffrey P. Nathraichean and Virginnia Smythe, they both total one hundred and ninety three? What are the odds of that happening?"

Virgie swept the kewpie dolls off the corner of her desk and perched seductively on the edge. Picking up a candy dish from the centre she offered him Sherbet Lemon by first pressing one to her own lips in a kiss and then to his.

Severus' lips puckered around the tart sweet and he spit it out.

"I do NOT care for sweets madam. Especially not Sherbet Lemons and most especially not pre-licked ones. In addition, I am certain that I do not know, nor do I care to find out, what the odds are of that or any other inquiry you may think up. Pens – Red – Twelve – Now!" he demanded in his most intimidating Death Eater demeanour.

It didn't intimidate Virgie one iota.

"One hundred and ninety three is also a prime number. Some that say prime numbers even have supernatural powers. Who are we to fight against the powers of the universe? Even it knows that we are a perfect balance to each other. It's almost… _magical_. Hm… Jeffy-Poo?" Virgie crooned, abandoning the candy in favour of drawing a heart on his chest with a long red painted fingernail.

"And yet, _Ms._ Smythe, your mathematical hypothesis has a singular flaw, as one of us seems to be… unbalanced. I will take my pens, if you please."

As Severus stormed away from the Principal's assistant's office, a single red pen clutched in one hand, and what was left of his sanity in the other. Albus' only saving grace was that once he was free to leave this job, 'Jeffy-Poo' would cease to exist, and Virgie the stalker would be left in the dust.

By the time he got back to the classroom (the errand having taken much longer than it should have thanks to Ms. Smythe's bafflingly uncooperative attitude), the final bell had already rung and the students had taken the opportunity to escape unfettered by a homework assignment. Their desks being askew attested to their hurried departure.

As he moved towards his own desk, Severus could almost believe that he caught a whiff of Lily's special scent. Of course that was only wishful thinking he told himself, brought on by working closely with her son for the past week, coupled with being set off balance by Virgie's continued feral assault.

Then he thought of a better explanation, one that didn't impugn his judgment and reason. It must be that dratted Kruger woman! She must had been here, trying once again to trap him into one of those unproductive parent-teacher meetings where he would have to smile, be congenial, and listen to all her theories on how he could be doing his job better. He had smelled that same scent on the note she had sent with Potter last week.

Potter… hm…

Thinking of Potter, he checked on the egg. He found it safely tucked in for the night cosy in the boy's book bag left under his desk. He carefully wrapped it in his handkerchief and put it in his pocket for safekeeping, then with a few flicks of his wand, he put the untidy classroom to rights and_ Noxed_ the lights. Intent on multi-tasking during his nightly guard duty, he shoved the red pen in his pocket with the egg and gathered up the stack of essays. Heading for the door, he once again traversed through the elusive trace of spice and lilies, causing him to stop his dead in his tracks.

"That does it," he muttered to himself. "I'm starting to hallucinate. The sooner I get out of this assignment the better."

Still… that scent… it was disquieting.

Severus was not the only one disquieted.

Harry was worried about having left the egg behind at school. He knew his teacher had promised to watch out for it - but what if he forgot and went home? What if it tried to hatch by itself? While worry weighed down one shoulder, depression weighted down the other. He thought he had been making progress towards turning into a Dudley and then Mrs. Krueger had to go and say that she didn't think he was stupid. All that hard work and with only two days left before Easter weekend, what did he have to show for it?

A big fat nothing.

With all that making his shoulders sag almost to the ground, Harry drug farther and farther behind as they walked home from school. He was the distance from the top of the stoop where Mrs. Krueger and Dudley were, to the bottom of the stoop where he was, when they arrived at the flat. Not that much of a difference in space, but eons of difference in time, for when he got to the top and walked in the front door, the inside was already in the middle of a chaotic scene.

On one side of the room, Uncle Siri was making a din drumming on pots with spoons. In the middle, Holly was waving her arms and legs making all Dudley's toys dance over his head, while Dudley leapt up trying to catch them. On the other side, Uncle Remmy was pounding Mr. Krueger on the back and Mrs. Krueger was hugging him around the neck.

At first glance, Harry was alarmed that Mr. Krueger was choking on something, as Uncle Remmy had the night before, but on second glance Mr. Krueger looked too happy to be suffocating.

"What's going on?"

"Harry! There you are! You're just in time to help us celebrate!" James reached out and grabbing hold swung him upside down over his shoulder and galloped around the room.

"Wha-wha-wha are-are-are we-we-we cell-cell-cell bray-bray-bray for-for-for?" it was hard to talk and be bounced upside down at the same time.

James swung Harry right side up and plopped down with him on the comfy couch exhausted. "A drum-roll if you would be so kind Padfoot!"

Sirius happily obliged with a thunderous cacophony of metallic sounds.

"Good enough," James made a slashing motion across his throat and Sirius abruptly stopped. "Harry my boy - we are celebrating that I am a free man. That is correct - I am now unemployed. Today was my last day at work so your old dad is now an official no-account good-for-nothing."

Sirius provided another drum roll.

While everyone else clapped and cheered, Harry went pale and shouted, _**"DON'T EVER SAY THAT!"**_Before anyone could react, he ran into his room and slammed the door.

"Someone's a might touchy," Dudley observed.

"But what set him off this time? I thought he'd be happy." James wondered.

"Beat's me Unc," Dudley shrugged. "He already knew that."

"Knew what?" James whirled on Dudley for an explanation.

"That you were a good-for-nothing. Dad told him that all the time. He was always waggling his finger at him and saying, 'Boy, if you don't watch your step, you'll grow up to be a worthless layabout, just like your drunk of a father'." Dudley said doing a fair impression of his father.

"Drunk?"

"Sure. That's why you and Auntie Lily died in that car crash and we got stuck with him. You were driving drunk and killed you both dead." Dudley nodded his blond head solemnly. "Can I go watch my telly now?"

"Sure Dudley… go ahead." James agreed stunned. Dudley didn't waste a moment to yell "YIPPEE!" and run up the stairs. James looked up at Lily who was looking just as stunned. "Lily, my son grew up thinking his father was a drunk who killed his mother."

Lily sat down beside him. "Then hadn't you better go convince him you're not?"

"Right," James jaw got tight. "First things first - tonight I straighten out my son. Then tomorrow I spring my brother-in-law out of jail, and then I murder him..."

"And then we spring you out of jail before you get barmy like me..." Sirius piped in.

"Why don't you stop with talking with Harry?" Lily suggested pushing James to his feet.

"You mean we don't have to get Vernon out of jail?" he asked hopefully with a glint in his eye saying that he meant it.

"Rephrasing... why don't you stop before you get thrown in jail?"

"You weren't the one he called a drunk."

"Go. Son. Needs. You." Lily said pushing James out of the room.

"Harry?... er... you in there Son?" James opened Harry's door and was surprised to find it completely dark. Then he heard sniffling in the corner.

"May I come in?"

"_... (sniff) ..._ why ask? I can't stop you _... (sniff)..._"

James growled at himself at the subtle reminder. He'd bought the lock and brought it home that day, he just hadn't installed it yet as he'd been too busy celebrating!

"Do you really want to? Because I'll leave..." James offered as the only thing he could think of to make up for it, all the while hoping he would say no.

"... it's okay... you're already here..." came a small voice in the dark.

James heaved a sigh of relief and flipped on the light. Harry was sitting in the corner again but this time instead of hugging his book bag, he was hugging his stuffed stag.

"Do you know why I got you that?" James asked sitting down beside him just as he had done the night before.

"It was cheap?"

"No." James laughed sadly at the implication. "I got it for you because it was just like the one you had as a baby."

"It is?"

"Yes. The stag is very special to me because it's my patronus."

"What's a patronus?"

"It's a magical creature that we conjure for protection."

"Are they all stags?"

"No, every witch and wizards has one that is conjured from their own experiences. When your mum and I were growing up at Hogwarts there were all sorts of animals that would come out of the Forbidden Forest during winter looking for food. The deer would come up and eat right out of your hand. Mine patronus is a stag, and your mother's is a doe. When you were born, I found you this little one here to protect you when I couldn't."

"I didn't have it at Privet Drive. Is it the same one?"

"No... your first one got lost I'm afraid."

"Like you did?"

"Kind of."

"Then it isn't much good for protection - is it?" Harry asked throwing it across the room.

'_Ouch!' _James cringed as the stuffed animal hit the wall and landed on its fuzzy antlers with a soft 'plop'. _'I bet he wishes he could do that to me too!' _James went over, picked it up, and brought it back to Harry.

"See? It came back. Just like I did. Just like I will always do."

"You don't always," Harry said softly taking the plushy and petting is velvety antlers.

"Yes I will, if it's within my power to do so. Look, Harry - I know what your Uncle Vernon told you. That I was a drunk who caused a car accident that hurt you, your mother, and myself. That wasn't the truth. I would never do anything intentionally that would take me away from you, or your mother, or Holly, or that would put any of you in danger. Do you remember that story I told you of the Prince and Princess and their little Princelet?"

"The one with the Evil Wizard and the minions?"

"That's the one."

"I told you before that it was a true story, and it is. The Evil Wizard is why we lost you for so long, not because I was a drunk as your uncle said."

"Then why did he tell me that?" Harry swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Maybe he just thought it would sound less scary to you, than to know that there really are Evil Wizards in the world."

"The Evil Wizard is a maniac."

"Yes son, he is."

"I run away when I see maniacs."

"That's a good boy," James gave him a hug and felt for just a moment that Harry might even be hugging him back slightly. "Yes, you are a _very_ good boy."

"Is... is Uncle Vernon a maniac?"

"Yes definitely. NO! I mean no... I mean not really. He is just... um... 'uneducated'. But I think he's learned his lesson."

"He has?"

"Yes. Hey! That's something else we're celebrating. We aren't going to tell Dudley until morning, but I'll let you in on a little secret tonight if you want."

"About Dudley?"

"Sort of. Your Uncle Remmy is going to go visit your aunt and uncle tomorrow and help them talk to a judge to see if he will let them come home. Isn't that great?"

"Already?" Harry's heart sunk, he was out of time, and he left the egg at school!

"Already? I've been working double shifts and overtime all week so I could get off a day early. That means I can spend tomorrow moving all the junk back to Privet Drive and get it out of the Marauder Mansion before Easter weekend – just as I promised you."

"...super..."

"And then you can have your old room back just exactly the way it was. Isn't that great?"

"...yeah…great..."

"Hey, don't sound so excited. I really thought once everything went back to normal, you'd be relieved it was finally happening. Aren't you? Is something else wrong?"

"Er... it's just that I forgot something at school. Is it okay if I go get it? I'll run the whole way! It won't take me long at all." Harry started to get up.

"Not the best idea Son," James said putting out a hand to stop him. "It's already getting dark, and dinner is about ready."

"But you don't understand! I _have_ to get it _now_! Please? I'll hurry!" Harry pleaded pulling against his father's hold.

James looked at his son. It was obviously very important to him to panic him this much.

"Why don't you tell me what it is, and I'll go get it for you? I can do it in a blink of an eye."

"That's even faster than running, isn't it?" Harry quit pulling away, so James was glad he had suggested it.

"Just a bit," he said with a smile.

"It's my book bag. I left it under my chair. It's the next to the last seat, third row from the windows."

"I remember. Be back in a jiffy." With that, Harry saw him disapparate with a 'pop'!

James apparated into the teacher's lounge. He knew no one would be there that time of night, as Lily told him she was the only one who had ever worked that late. What he didn't know was the working habits of Harry's new teacher. Poking his head into the hall, he was glad to see it was dark other than a few dim lights. He made his way quickly to Harry's classroom, and with a whispered _'Alohomora'_ spell, he slipped inside.

He located the book bag easily and started to disapparate back to the flat then thought better of it. Sitting down on Harry's little chair he opened the book bag and looked through it. He wanted to know what was so important to his son. All he found in it was the empty nest box and a vocabulary list with all the words but one crossed off.

James shook his head, he didn't know if he would ever get his son completely figured out. There wasn't anything in the bag for Harry to be worried about leaving overnight, but… the nest box _was_ empty. Perhaps it was just that he had finally lost interest in hatching the egg and was ashamed to admit it. Whatever the reason, the look on Harry's face when he returned with the book bag made the trip worth the effort. Harry immediately took the bag and hugged it to his chest with a sob.

"Well... okay then. How about we go for a bite now?" Knowing what the bag contained (or rather what it didn't), made James puzzled by the disparate outpour of emotion.

"I-I'll be right out..." Harry said still clutching the bag for all it was worth.

"Okay... but don't be long." James took the hint, kissed the top of his son's head, and left. It was clear that Harry didn't want to open the bag in front of him.

The minute Mr. Krueger left the room Harry ripped open the bag, flinging out the contents. It wasn't there! The nest box was there... but the egg was gone! What if it hatched already? Harry sat down on his bed not knowing what to do next.

"So... is Harry alright? Does he understand now?" Lily asked putting a plate of hot rolls on the table as James walked into the kitchen.

"I think so... okay I'm just not sure anymore. I think he does, but then I thought that before and I was wrong. So I am just going to rate this one an equivocal 'maybe'."

"James!"

"Oh don't you go 'James-ing' me! Not till you try it again."

Sirius and Remus cut off Lily's retort when they came into the kitchen dragging a loudly complaining Dudley between them by the ears.

"But I was watching my telly!"

"So what? Now it's dinner time."

"But I watch my telly during dinner time!"

"Not in this house you don't."

"But Harry isn't here! If he can eat in his room, why can't I eat in front of my telly?" Dudley continued to whinge pitifully.

"Harry! It's time for dinner sweetie!" Lily sung out as Dudley was blocking the doorway. He was holding onto the doorjamb with all his might, while the two men tried to pry him off from it. James was gratified to see his son show up and slip underneath all three and into his chair, sans the infamous book bag. James gave him a nod of approval.

With Harry's arrival, Dudley no longer had a basis for protest and plopped down in his chair. "What's for dinner?" he asked his aunt.

"I don't know. Sirius made it."

"It's my own creation Dudster. I call it 'Marauder Surprise'," Sirius grinned and started dishing up helpings all around. "It has all my favourite things so you're gonna love it!"

Dudley groaned loudly. How could he have been so stupid! He should have cooked dinner tonight too instead of watching his telly!

After dinner, James talked Lily into letting him show the boys how to play Exploding Snap. She had banned magical games with Dudley there, as she didn't want Petunia to be upset with her for exposing him to them. Only after finding out what Vernon had told Harry about James, she threw caution to the wind and joined in as well. They all had fun watching to see whom the deck of cards would explode on next. Even Harry forgot about his troubles long enough to get caught up in the game.

Until it exploded on him, the game fascinated Dudley in particular. The first time that happened, he threw the cards down, declared it 'freaky', and stormed up the circular staircase to watch his telly, slamming and locking the trap door behind him. Soon they could hear a cowboy shoot-out blaring above.

"Looks like you'll be sleeping downstairs tonight old man," Remus told him.

"No I won't. He'll come down."

"Those hatch doors are Alohomora-proof."

"Don't need a spell, haven't got a wand anyhow," Sirius shrugged.

"Then how do you propose to get him to bed?"

"Easy..." Sirius walked over to the circular staircase and stood in front of the wall behind it. Then he made a big show of stretching his arms, cracking his knuckles, and shaking out all of his joints as if he were about to do some great feat which required inordinate amounts of energy. When he was sure all eyes were on him. He reached out, flipped open the door to the electrical panel and shut off the power with the flick of one finger.

"**NOOOOOO!"**

"That's how!" Sirius laughed as he heard Dudley's footsteps pounding back down the steps in the dark. Flipping back on the lights as Dudley hit the bottom rung, Sirius caught him around the waist. With the help of Remus, he then hauled him towards the bathroom for a bath, all the while Dudley shouting at the top of his lungs that 'he could do it himself!' and Sirius replying that 'if that was the case he would have done it already'.

It had been past six in the evening by the time Severus had fired off another request to the Headmaster to be relieved of duty. He then raided the school cafeteria for a cold dinner to eat later and changed his clothes back into his robe, spelled for warmth and dryness. Arriving back at the alleyway behind the dilapidated building, he cast a disillusionment charm over himself.

From inside he could hear the high-pitched whinge of the Dursley boy complaining about who-knows-what-this-time and faint rumblings of an adult male telling him more than likely telling him in no uncertain terms to shut it.

He then heard a slightly familiar female voice calling out to Potter to come to dinner. It made his heart skipped a beat. His first thought was that it was Lily, but then he reminded himself it must be Lily's sister Petunia instead. Potter had told him that his uncle was no longer incarcerated, undoubtedly the same held true for his aunt.

As no hue and cry arose following the request for Potter to present himself, he felt that he could safely assume that Potter had heeded the call and therefore was unharmed and secured inside for the night. He heaved a sigh of relief and worked the knot out of his neck. It took him by surprise him how tense he had started to become when he did not know exactly where Potter was every minute of the day and night.

Severus proceeded to execute his nightly guard duties by walking around the building and securing the windows one by one before he cast a '_Protego Totalum' _spell over the entire building. Not that he felt the need to protect anyone other than Potter – it was just easier that way.

Patrolling done, he lit the end of his wand with a hushed '_Lumos' _spell and settled down in a dark corner of the back alleyway - the muffled sounds coming from the building, lending a companionable counterpoint to the sounds of traffic on the main street a few blocks away. Taking the egg out of his pocket, he inspected its shell. The bulge seemed to be pulsating slightly along the main crack. It wouldn't be long. He rolled his handkerchief into a cone to make it a temporary nest and set about grading papers.

"Now let us see what the little urchins think they deserve…" he chucked to the egg.

Severus whipped through the first dozen papers, slowing down only long enough to jot down witty rejoinders and sprinkle the papers liberally with red ink, pointing out errors in spelling, grammar, and punctuation.

They were as he expected - the normal wishes for candy, toys and pets, with the usual claims of having been good boys and girls.

Then he got to Dudley's…

_**The Easter Bunny had better bring me lots of CHALKOLOT because chalkolot is a food group and sugar isnt! I want lots and lots and lots of chalkolot! chalkolot! chalkolot! Because I deserve it! And that**__**'**__**s**__**five inches! SO THERE! - Dudley Dursley **_

_Mister Dursley: __I am not the Easter Bunny, but I will certainly grant you your wish. I have an entire box of chalk waiting just for you at the rear blackboard. Please write 'I will be more respectful of my teacher, and quit wasting his time.' Five hundred times should suffice nicely. Do not worry about running out of room if you write in overly large script, you may use the blackboard in front as well. Enjoy! - 'F' - __By the way, I measured only two inches. You owe me three more. _

Grading Dudley's paper had put him in a foul mood, much to the detriment of the ten student's whose papers followed, but then to be fair he went back and re-graded the first ten just as ruthlessly.

His calf started aching with the sound of several small 'pops' from inside the building. A quick glance up assured him that the windows were not open and Dursley was not at one of them poised and taking aim. The 'pops' were followed up by the sound of laughter and Severus scowled as if the laughter was meant to be at his expense. Shifting to a more comfortable position, he retrieved his thermos of coffee and took a deep gulp of the thick tar.

Too bad that 'F' was the lowest grade he could award in the muggle system.

Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply until the throbbing in his leg subsided, but it did little to ease the pain in his heart. These last few months had taken their toll with the constant reminders of all he had missed in his life. Was this really all he had come to? Doomed to always be on the outside of a family, skulking in a damp dark alleyway like some homeless stray? After the uncharacteristic wave of self-pity subsided, Severus downed the sludge in bottom of the thermos and put all the papers but one aside. He had saved the best for last, that of his little Slytherin protégée.

_**An Easter Essay by Harry **_

_**The Easter Bunny hasn't ever left me anything before, so he probably won't this year either. But that's okay with me because I don't have a basket for him to leave anything in anyway. **_

_**Dudley has lots of baskets though. He gets a new one every year to add to all the ones he already has, so this year he will have nine of them. When the Easter Bunny comes, he will fill all nine of his baskets full of chocolates and jellies and toffees and lots of stuff like that and Dudley won't share any of them. But that's okay with me too, because sweets aren't so good for me, especially not Sherbet Lemons. **_

_**Besides, all I really want for Easter is a family of my own to keep forever. One who loves me, and won't ever give me away no matter what. Only a family won't fit into an Easter basket so I suppose that is a stupid thing to wish for. But as it really is all I want I'm going to ask for one anyway. **_

_**Now I'm supposed to say why I deserve a family for Easter. I'm not sure I do, but I have been trying hard to be worthy of one, so I am hoping that maybe that counts for something.**_

"Potter, Potter, Potter… what to do with you… what to do..." Severus was angry. Had the idiot boy learned nothing from him? Had he not listened to a single word he said? Such a self-defeating attitude! He might as well wrap himself with a big red ribbon and deliver himself to the nearest Death Eater. Bah!

"…I know… a big fat 'F' to go with the one I gave your cousin."

A door slammed in the building drawing Severus' attention. Then all the lights shut off suddenly and then blinked back on. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. There seemed to be an excessive amount of door slamming in that flat. He should check it out, one can never be too careful. Patrolling the perimeter gave Severus a chance to stretch his legs and to rethink his reaction to Potter's essay. He should reread it. Perhaps some food would help. Around ten p.m., after consuming half of a limp ham and cheese sandwich, Severus reread the essay.

"I have to admit he did use some reasoning," he observed reluctantly. "His conclusion that no filled basket would likely be forthcoming wasn't a play for sympathy, just a statement of empirical logic, based on past experience and observation, rather than a foolishly sanguine hope that 'it could happen' with no proof or solid indication to the contrary. Perhaps I was hasty with that 'F'…" thoughtfully he flicked his wand and changed the 'F' to a 'D'.

Hunkered down in the cold with a stiff breeze stirring up the bits of rubbish in the alley, Severus stared unsatisfied at the brick building. Albus had the knack for getting people to do things and making them think it was their idea. It was only later when it was too late to back out, and they realized they had no idea what was really going on, that the truth dawned on them that they'd been played. Severus felt played.

Around midnight, with nothing better to do and hours before dawn, he reread the essay for the third time. "Hrumph! At least he didn't ask for candy. Sherbet Lemons…" the scene from the prior afternoon surfaced and his whole body puckered at the memory of Virgie attempting to feed him one of the fizzy treats. "Wise boy… he did listen to something… maybe I will revise this 'D' to a 'C'."

About two a.m. Severus heard a baby cry. Strange… he didn't think there were any other flats nearby. Suddenly a trash bin down the alley upturned and a tabby cat streaked through puddle reflecting neon light from a sign at the end of the block. The ripples caused the red lettering to melt into its murky surface. For a brief moment it looked to Severus to be a pool of blood, and he tensed as if the alley were about to fill up with Death Eaters.

Thinking back to earlier in the week when he had heard a boy's scream and maniacal laughter coming from the dilapidated building, he once again wondered how safe Potter was in the muggles' care. He had checked the boy over thoroughly the next day, and found no injuries this time, but Potter's refusal to talk about what had transpired the night before in his home still disturbed him.

"I can protect him from the outside, but who is protecting him on the inside? No one - that's who!" Severus told the egg savagely. "Perhaps I didn't read between the lines of Dumbledore's messages quite deeply enough. Surely the old man wouldn't have intentionally left Potter in the care of someone he didn't know or trust… would he?"

That was the question wasn't it? Even as its logical answer crossed his mind, Severus pushed it away and denied it existed. It was too ludicrous even to consider. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Albus Dumbledore loved that boy as if he were his own grandson and that he would never have purposely jeopardized his health and happiness. However, Albus was human so accidentally was always a possibility, but once he realized his mistake he would have certainly also taken steps to rectify the situation.

"That must have been what the Headmaster meant when he told me to eliminate the distance between myself and Potter. He must want me to take Potter in myself, to be his protector, his mentor, his… family." A family - such a normal desire, such a simple wish, and it was the only thing Potter had asked for. Severus cursed Dumbledore under his breath for putting him in this position. Didn't he know it would never work? Well he couldn't fulfil the boy's wish, or satisfy the Headmaster's desire, but he could at least give Potter a better grade on his essay. He justified the change in grade for the astute observation Potter had made regarding a family not being able to fit into an Easter basket. When Katie asked for a pony in her basket, she made no such distinction.

"Thanks to my excellent teaching techniques, Potter has shown a slight modicum of logic, wisdom, and intelligence." Severus congratulated himself as he changed the 'C' to a 'B' then he leaned back with a sigh. He was thoroughly knackered and felt terribly old. Weeks on end of working all day, and living in an alley all night, all of it on little sleep and copious amounts of bad coffee was not his idea of a relaxing sabbatical.

About four a.m. Severus was resting his eyes in a dozing position when the screeching of tires on brought him immediately back to a state of alert. Upon investigation, it turned out to be only a couple of muggle drag racers holding an impromptu contest of metal. Returning to his post, Severus muttered a few disparaging remarks about the drivers as the screeching of tires faded into the distance. He supposed it wasn't any worse than a wizard's duel. Both were equally asinine with possibly lethal consequences.

The image of lethal duels brought to mind his series of encounters with Ms. Smythe. He had no desire whatsoever to spar with her, but the blasted woman wouldn't leave him alone. It was a conundrum. True, he thought to himself, he was an excellent specimen of manliness, a true 'catch' in either world. Nevertheless, he had carefully cultivated his spy persona to guarantee that people would stay at arm's length. He just couldn't figure out why it wasn't working anymore.

Racking his brain, he was positive he had done nothing to encourage her wanton attentions thus far, quite the contrary he had been his normally rude sour condescending self. The only conclusion he could come to was that she was mentally imbalanced… hm… wasn't she blathering on and on about balance? What was it?

Oh, yes… he remembered. It was something about the universe knowing when two things balanced each other, and that people should not be fight against it. Severus pondered on that thought for a moment. While he put no stock in anything the deranged lunatic said, every wizard knew that universe favoured pairs in balance, be it opposites or two of a kind. Muggles used rational to try and define it such as the laws of physics. Wizards knew and called it by its true name - magic. It was this intimate knowledge of nature that they channelled when they performed their magic. In and out, up and down, earth and sky, dark and light, even parent and child.

Parent and child… when he thought about it, it wasn't a totally onerous pairing. Perhaps he shouldn't dismiss the possibility out of hand. The merchants in Diagon Alley hadn't thought it was so far-fetched that he would have a son. They had charged enough to his accounts to prove it. Nevertheless, what could he offer a child?

He was the first to admit he had no parenting skills. However, Potter hadn't asked for someone who knew what he was doing, all he had asked for was for someone who loved him and wouldn't ever give him away. Such a modest request really, and something every child deserved. Moreover, Potter _had_ worked exceptionally hard for it, a point he hadn't failed to point out in his essay. The corners of Severus' mouth turned up as he changed the 'B' to an 'A'.

Only... what if he did something wrong? What if he made a mistake with the boy? The shopkeeper Curatoran had given him some advice during that nightmare of a shopping trip. He had said that parenting was just something he would have to get used to it.

He could live with that… but could Potter?


	17. A Patchwork Egg: part 12

Right now Potter wasn't sure that he wanted to live - period. The minutes he had left were speeding by and no one except for him seemed to be noticing. He had desperately wanted to return to the school the night before to look for the egg, but when everyone had finally fallen asleep, he couldn't get either the window or the front door to budge open. He laid awake the rest of the night counting the minutes until morning.

When morning came, and the Kruegers came in to wake them up, they told Dudley that he was going to have a big surprise that day and to hurry and get dressed. Harry knew what that meant. It was true. The Dursleys were coming back. That did it, he needed to get to school and he needed to get there fast! He had to find the egg, and if he got there early enough he could even look one more time for his picture!

As soon as they left the room he started dressing as fast as he could, but even that slowed him down. He had decided to dress in layers again by put on several shirts and jeans and socks, ending with his favourite jumper on top. It made it a bit stiff to move with all the clothes he had on, but he thought it a wise precaution in case he didn't get to come back to pack later on.

Dressing done, he went to breakfast with the intention of gobbling down a banana and getting away as fast as he could, but was slowed down again. Dudley was in a good mood, as he knew he had a surprise waiting for him and Harry didn't, so he insisted on cooking everyone 'his' sausage omelettes again. Harry was beginning to hate omelettes.

Harry ate so fast he felt as if he were going to sick up. He so wanted breakfast to hurry up and be over but everyone else seemed to be stuck in sloooooooow moooooootion.

"Hey Padfoot - thanks. These business cards you made up for me look good - very classy." Uncle Remmy commented as he inspected some stiff little white cards that Sirius had just handed him.

Uncle Remmy had come to breakfast dressed in James' best suit and tie, his nails and hair neatly trimmed, and his shoes spit shined to mirror brightness. Even the old valise he had carried school papers in, had been polished until it shone. Nevertheless, even with all the spit and shine Remus still managed to look slightly on the shabby side.

But Harry thought he looked very sharp, just like a chauffeur. All he needed was the hat.

"Yeah, they're not too bad- I printed them up with Dudley's computer. It had everything I needed to do you up right except a sarcasm font."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny Sirius. But really, I think they look good too." Mrs. Krueger said peering over Remus shoulder. "What do you think James?"

Mr. Krueger took one of the cards and looked it over, front and back, and let out a low whistle. "You could have been a crack forger Padfoot. These look real."

"Just as long as they're real enough to avoid getting my arse thrown in the you-know-what next to you-know-who if I get caught," Uncle Remmy remarked.

"If you're worried, then just don't get caught," Uncle Siri suggested with a grin.

"Remus, if you don't think you can do this..." James started to give him an out.

"No. No. I said I would, and I will. I just need another cup of coffee to settle my nerves and R.J. Wolfe, Esquire will be off to slay dragons...ah... judges that is."

"**COWABUNGA!**" Sirius crowed, and then fell silent when everyone stared at him as if he were mental. "Don't the cool guys still say that?"

"Padfoot… the cool guys never said that to begin with," James said trying not to laugh at his friend's dismay.

"Oh wow... that's a bummer man."

A mere ten meters away in the alley, a horrible nightmare rudely jerked Severus awake. He dreamed about the three Marauders being dressed in Hawaiian shirts and riding surfboards. They were bearing down on him on the lake at Hogwarts, while grindylows hung onto his legs and tangled him up in lake grass so he couldn't escape. He cuddled up to the egg and pulled his cape around them both for warmth and comfort. UHG!

Friday morning wasn't dawning as the bright and glorious vision of Severus' imagination.

Instead, it slowly crept out of the murky night as bleak as the rest of the week had been. However, even the cold sleet that tried to pelt its way down the back of his neck, or having waken from a horrible nightmares, did little to dampen his spirits as he slowly crept out of his cramped surveillance spot in the grimy back alley. Once he had made the decision to offer Potter a home, a _real _home, he had felt almost giddy. It felt so right, and nothing had felt right for years. Not since Lily…

As Severus stretched his stiff muscles, he shook the image of his lost love out of his head. No, he wouldn't think about Lily. He wouldn't think about the last time he had felt this way, when he had foolishly asked her to marry him, without being certain of her answer first. That had turned out badly for him. It wouldn't this time. This time he was sure what the answer would be. Potter would be overjoyed. No, not 'Potter' it was Harry… _his_ Harry. Severus felt possessive already. He could see those emerald eyes glowing with happiness, and all of it for him.

He had learned a lot about the muggles that the child lived with over the past few weeks, and he had no doubt that Harry would choose him over them. Just as Minerva McGonagall had said so many years ago – they clearly were the worst sort of muggles imaginable. So how could it possibly turn out any different? It couldn't, simple as that.

He would finally accept Albus' repeated offer of a house elf, to put his home on Spinner's End into a semblance of order. Make it a bit more liveable and inviting for a small boy. In his rosy fog, the idea of completely rearranging his bachelor lifestyle around another human being didn't seem an inconvenience, a little dusting, a few throw pillows, muck out the guest room, stock up on milk and pumpkin juice… how much could it take?

Hm… perhaps more than he thought. Severus frowned slightly, maybe he should ask for two house elves, or even three. Only on a temporary basis though, since there was so much to do initially, after that they would only be underfoot.

He supposed he really should do something about the garden as well. A child needed fresh air and a place outside to play. Severus sneered – that was proof already that he was head and shoulders a better choice than those muggles that kept _his _Harry locked up in that fleabag flat.

In all the weeks that he had been keeping them under surveillance, he had never seen them allow Harry to set foot outside, other than to go to, or return from, school. Come to think of it, he had never seen the muggles ever leave the rundown building either, let alone take the boy to the play park, not once. It was unhealthy. Well no more! He would put roses in those pale cheeks!

First, he had to prepare.

Disapparating to the street outside of the Leaky Cauldron, Severus hurried through to Diagon Alley. He knew little in the way of what supplies children needed other than for potions class but he did know that one Harry Potter needed new shoes. Twilfit and Tatting's wasn't open yet but Severus knew the cafe the proprietor preferred to frequent for breakfast. If he were persuasive, he would be able to convince him to open a little early. Reaching the cafe, Severus arranged one of his most stern 'you will do this or you will die' looks on his face and went in. A scant twenty minutes later, he was leaving Diagon Alley with a package under his arm and a satisfied smirk on his face.

Happily occupied making plans for his new family, Severus was actually humming to himself by the time he reached the school. After his short shopping diversion, he had cast a few furtive spells to freshen up his robes, and to transfigure them into acceptable muggle teacher attire. Wanting to make a good impression when he 'popped the question' he made a special effort to make his clothes less forbidding looking, by forgoing his normal all black ensemble for a casual looking tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows and a dark green button down shirt. He tried khaki's, but only had them on for less than a minute before he shuddered with revulsion and transfigured them into his normal black slacks with a black silk tie to match. Having spent so long away from home, his hair had grown longer than normal, so he now tied it neatly back at the nape of his neck as a practical remedy.

Severus was unaware of how dashing he looked, the long days outside on guard duty having the affect of shedding much of the sallow tone to his skin, and the unrelenting rain having given his hair a lustrous sheen. He caused quite a stir among the other staff members as he strode through the wide front doors of the brick school building, his dark eyes alive with purpose.

When he nodded amiably to several of them, as he passed by on his way to the cafeteria to charm a cup of strong coffee out of the cook, it didn't take long for the rumours to spread to the office that the substitute teacher had arrived 'all dolled up'. It took even less time for Ms. Smythe to arrive breathless at his classroom door, positive that the reason for the change was her influence.

"Oh, Jeffy-Poo…" she sang out lustfully.

With the cook's strong brew invigorating him, not even her high pitched voice could puncture his balloon this morning.

"What is it Ms. Smythe?" he asked turning his smouldering obsidian eyes on Virgie, making her go weak in the knees.

"I was just wondering…" with her quarry finally within her grasp (something that had actually never happened before) she was suddenly feeling a trifle shy.

"Yes, you were wondering?"

"Um… yes, I was wondering… if you had changed your mind about that something… um… sparkly we discussed?" she reminded him by fanning her face sweetly with her left hand, her bare ring finger prominently displayed.

"Changed my mind about something sparkly? Oh indeed, I have Ms. Smythe! Thank you for reminding me." Severus declared, wondering vaguely if something was wrong with her hand but dismissing it as inconsequential and none of his business, and instead giving her what could only be loosely described as a smile.

Virgie's heart did flip-flops anyway. Did she dare - hope?

"I would like that glitter you offered after all, oh… and a ream of construction paper, several pots of glue, and a gross of pipe cleaners… green, please."

That wasn't the sparkly thing that she had in mind. Not at all! She frowned so hard that her severely plucked eyebrows pulled into a vee shape pointed at her pouty red mouth.

"So _very _sorry… _Mr._ Nathraichean, but the supply closet is _closed,_" she sniffed. Virgie was NOT going to put up with being humiliated! Oh, no! If anyone were going to dump anyone around here, it would be _her_ dumping _him_!

"No matter. Oh and I probably won't need the rest of those pens either." Severus said agreeably turning his back to her, and then of all things he had the gall to start _whistling_ as he began to write math problems on the board – and _cheerfully _no less!

"_**ARRRGHH! MEN!"**_

Virgie clenched her fists and made a very unladylike snort before turning abruptly on her spiked heels and storming out the door, slamming it behind her so hard that the walls shook and the windows rattled.

"What?" Severus looked over his shoulder, and seeing the classroom empty, just smiled and went back to preparing for what he decided would be his last day. For once, he had apparated home to Spinner's End with Harry there would no longer be a need to ever come back to Little Whinging. His 'research' project in Muggleville would be at an end, and the Headmaster would no doubt finally be extremely happy with having him taking care of his golden boy. All would finally be right in the world of Severus Snape – and he would be a 'Dad' with a capital 'D'.

Severus smiled inwardly as he went for broke and tossed a few fraction problems on the board for good measure. That ought to keep them busy.

"Good morning Mr. Nathraichean!" Twenty little voices sang out in unison from behind him as the sound of the morning bell waned.

"Good mor…" as Severus turned to face the class his smile froze into a grimace of disappointment as he noticed two conspicuously empty seats. Neither Mister Dursley, nor Harry, was in their assigned places. As his eyes narrowed into a stare, Katie's hand popped up and started waving wildly.

"Dudley isn't here!" Katie announced, her curly pigtails bouncing on either side of her head just as wildly as her hand was waving in the air.

"Miss Jones, I have more than sufficient faculties to ascertain that fact for myself, so unless you have pertinent data to impart as to the reason why, I suggest you lower your hand immediately." Severus growled, his good mood vanishing fast.

"I know why." Piers said slowly, not sure if he was ratting out his friend or not, but seeing as he was still mad at Dudley for breaking his promise about sharing the Game Boy with him, he wasn't sure he cared.

"Yes Mister Polkiss? What knowledge do you have to impart?" Severus demanded. He was tempted to grab his wand, rush back to the dilapidated building, and find out for himself what had happened to his Harry.

When he had left his surveillance post that morning, he had no reason to believe that he would not see him in class within the hour. The unmistakable aroma of browning sausages had indicated the household was waking up as he left. Severus couldn't help but kick himself for becoming so complacent, he knew better! He should have never left until he saw those green eyes coming out the door! What if Death Eaters had attacked as soon as he left his post?

"Um… my Dad – he's the head of the neighbourhood watch you know!" Piers proudly interrupted his own story to make this announcement.

"Yes, yes - caps with eyes. Get on with it Mister Polkiss," Severus ordered impatiently.

"Um… well he said that there was lots of stuff goin' on at Dudley's house the last coupla days, and he says he thinks that the Dursley's are getting sprung today."

"Sprung?"

"Er… yeah… them being criminals and all, but we're not supposed to say that in front of the Bid D. Dad said they must have got themselves one whale of a lawyer to get off the hook with the Tax Men instead of being locked up for five hundred thousand years!"

Severus narrowed his eyes and stared down his long hooked nose at the rat faced Polkiss boy without saying a word. Something was off here. Potter said that his Uncle had already left that legal establishment, albeit prematurely and sans permission.

Piers squirmed in his seat. "Betcha' that's why is all… you know - 'cause Dudley he said when they come back them were gonna owe him loads of presents. He said he was gonna make 'em buy him a new Game Boy…'prob'ly took the day off to go to the shops."

All the other little boys and girls nodded solemnly and murmured their agreement with his assessment. They had heard Dudley say that too and when Dudley wanted presents, he always got them.

"And what of Mister Krueger? He is also absent. Would he be similarly occupied?" Severus sneered through his teeth. Maybe he would have to rethink his plans, wondering now what in the world had made him lose touch with reality to begin with.

All the little boys snickered outright and all the little girls giggled behind their hands.

"I fail to see what is so amusing." Severus said with menacing undertone.

Gordon, Dennis, Malcolm and Piers exchanged looks and then grinned at each other. Dudley would tattle on Harry without even blinking. As they all wanted to stay on his good side so they could play with the toys he was out buying - so should they.

"Harry's playing hooky." Gordon spoke up for the gang.

"Yeah! I saw him before school behind the cafeteria makin' a _BIG_ mess." Piers supplied, throwing his arms as wide as he could to demonstrate the magnitude of the mess.

"He's probably planning to burn down the school again!" Malcolm said his eye getting big and round. Dennis nodded in agreement to all of their assessments.

All the little girls gasped in fear, except for Katie who was taking advantage of her teacher's preoccupation with her missing classmates to check on her pets. She poked at them with her finger. The wiggly worms were no longer wiggling in the dark corner of her desk, but had dried up and looked like twigs.

"Nonsense!" Severus snarled, worried about Harry's safety with him alone outside and unprotected. "The little fool!"

Katie burst out crying.

The rest of little girls followed suit out of sympathy.

The little boys just got up and started chasing each other around the room for no other reason than it was more fun than doing fractions.

"Miss Jones! Class! For heaven's sake child, cease that wailing immediately! I was not addressing to you!" The situation was rapidly growing too far out of control for Severus' liking – what he wouldn't give right now for a class of eleven year olds.

"EVERYONE SIT!" Virgie's order, followed by her ear-splitting whistle, caught their attention and the class quieted down. In the complete silence that followed, Virgie marched on her impossibly high heels to the front of the classroom, dropped eleven red pens and the requested craft supplies on Severus' desk along with a note from the office explaining Dudley's absence, and started to march back out with her head held high.

Thinking better of it halfway to the door, she paused (posing so that her tight skirt showed her curves off to their best advantage) and mouthed the words 'you owe me' to Severus. Then she blew a kiss to the stunned man as she sashayed out, swinging her hips for all she was worth. Try to dump her would he!

All the little boys and girls broke out in uncontrollable giggles, except for Katie who was still snivelling over her pets.

Nonplussed, it took Severus several moments before he broke out of his shock and growled at the class to work on the math problems while he went in search of his wayward student. He found Harry in the location Piers had supplied, tucked in a corner behind the overturned rubbish bins which had their contents strewn all over the ground.

Severus' immense relief on finding him safe and in one piece, only fuelled his fury at having to look for him in the first place. He wondered if this is what parenthood felt like as his gut reaction was to give him a stern lecture for worrying him unnecessarily and then to ground him until he was forty-five. Only when he noticed Harry's arms wrapped around his knees, and silent sobs racking his thin frame, he bit back the angry words.

Kicking aside some of the garbage as he approached, Severus reflected that despite his inclination to the contrary, now was also probably not an appropriate time to lecture the child about littering. Doc Curatoran was right - he had so much to learn about parenting!

"Pot- ah…Mister Krueg- ah… _Harry_… what is wrong child?" Severus stumbled over his name, unsure of how to comfort the crying child other than simply ordering him stop, which in his experience normally worked with children, although recent events proved the fallacy of that blanket approach.

"I tried so hard to find them… but they're both gone… and now I'm out of time…" Harry whispered raising his tear streaked face to Severus' concerned one.

"What were you trying to find?"

"Nothing really…" Harry hiccupped, swiping at his eyes with the back of a grubby hand.

"Nothing? Are you sure?" Severus squatted down among the rubbish and quirked an eyebrow at the boy, "This is quite the devastation to wreck on the environment over 'nothing'."

"Oh! I'm sorry Sir!" Harry scrambled to his feet and starting stuffing the trash back into the bins, sobbing anew.

Severus grabbed his arm to make him stop, and spun him around to face him. "Tell me what you were trying to find. Perhaps I can help. I would… _like_… to help you."

"No you won't. Not after you found out what I did!"

"I highly doubt that, so let me be the judge. Go ahead, you might as well tell me."

"I-I-I killed the egg!"

"You mean this one?" Severus said pulling the patchwork egg out of his pocket and dropping it in Harry's hand.

"You had it?" Harry breathed and looked at him with wonder.

"Of course I did. Did I not solemnly vow to watch after it for you last night?"

"Yes... but then I remember you would go home to bed, and then it would have been all alone. When I- when I opened my book bag and I saw it was gone...but the nest box still there, I- I thought maybe it tried to hatch and 'membered you said it couldn't hatch on its own... so I- I thought maybe it had di-died."

"Well it didn't. All back. Safe and sound. There you go." Severus gave him a weird sort of half smile half grimace. "But your actions do puzzle me."

"Huh?"

"You left the egg in the classroom. Would not that have been a more likely searching ground for the hatchling than here?"

"I looked there, but I lost something else, and thought maybe they both got thrown out..."

"And what was that child."

"It was just – just a stupid picture… I lost it last week and I thought – I thought maybe someone had picked it up and threw it away. I-I already looked everywhere else. This was the last place it might have been." Harry said with a note of helpless desperation.

"A picture? Do you mean a photo?" Guilty thoughts pricked at Severus conscious over the photo in its gaudy glitter frame stuffed in his desk drawer that he had failed to return.

"Yeah… of my family." Harry shrugged off Severus' hold and reached down for more trash. "It's stupid I know, to get upset for losing it, but it was the only one I had. It doesn't matter now - it's gone for real. I don't know why I even tried – nothing else has gone right since I got up today."

After breakfast that morning, Harry could tell that the adults were making plans for Uncle Remmy to pick up his aunt and uncle after their holiday as a big surprise for Dudley. It finally made sense why he was dressed like a chauffeur – it would sure impress his aunt.

Looking around the table at all the adults' faces, he knew that he was the only one who wasn't happy about what was about to happen. The longer he sat there listening to their plans, the larger the knot in his stomach grew, until he knew if he stayed a minute longer that he'd be ill. He finally slipped out and finished getting ready for school. When he popped his head back in, to tell them he was going to leave for school early, no one had even noticed him - they were all so busy with their plans for the Dursleys.

Dudley had pleaded to stay at the flat to be there in person to receive his surprise when it arrived. When he simply tearfully proclaimed how very much he had been missing his parents and how this would cheer him up, instead of throwing a temper tantrum over being made to go to school, his soft hearted Auntie Lily couldn't deny his request, saying 'one day wouldn't matter' and of course he could stay. Harry swallowed over the lump in his throat at hearing that – nothing matter except for Dudley - and what Dudley wanted. Harry grabbed his book bag, and left unnoticed.

Trudging toward school Harry felt as grey and depressed as the storm clouds above him. Sure, he had snuck out, but he was secretly hoping that _someone _would notice and care about him. He sniffed forlornly, unaware that the only thing stopping the cold sleet from soaking him to the bone was the motherly 'keep me dry and warm' spell Lily had put on his jumper when the spring rains settled in for a long stay.

When he heard the sound of feet rapidly approaching behind him on the deserted pavement, he looked around wildly for someplace to hide. Death Eaters! Mr. Krueger kept warning him to be careful, and not to leave the flat without someone with him, but he had anyway and now here he was - a sitting duck! When no ready hiding spot materialized, he bravely whirled around to face his attacker only to have four large furry feet knock him over backwards when they didn't stop when he did.

"Cosmos!" Harry sat up and hugged him around the neck, happy to see his dog again. In response the big black dog washed his boy's face with his tongue until he started to giggle, then he sat back on his haunches and tipped his head to one side as if to ask 'Did you really think I'd let you go off alone?'

Sirius had seen Harry slip out the front door and decided that someone should make sure he got to school safely. He wished he could have gone in his own form for a change, that way he could have asked him why he looked so sad at the prospect of Dudley moving out. James and Lily were relieved but happy, he and Moony were exhausted but happy, and they all thought that Harry would be just plain happy, if not downright ecstatic. None of them quite knew what to make of his downcast reaction, but they all agreed that as it was early and few people were out, that maybe Cosmos was the one who should go after him this time.

At the dog's whine, Harry gave him a tremulous smile and stood up.

"I'm okay. C'mon boy! I'll race you!" Harry took off at high speed with Cosmo's on his heels. It wasn't until they reached the deserted schoolyard that Harry paused and looked speculatively at his shaggy friend.

"Do you think you could help me find something?"

"Woof! Woof!" Rain or shine, Sirius was up for anything that meant a few more minutes of freedom in the open air. He hadn't realized how much he had missed stretching his legs like that, and it felt soooooo good!

"Woof woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!" he barked enthusiastically.

"Whoa! Quiet boy! If the teachers see us they'll make me go in!" Harry shushed him.

"woof woof woof"

"Ha-ha! That's better. Now help me look for my… er… for a piece of paper I dropped. It's got to be around here somewhere!" Harry still didn't want to admit he had lost the picture, but after a week of looking for it every chance he got, he welcomed the help.

Harry started at the far corner of the schoolyard and repeated his search in a methodical grid pattern, picking up any little scrap of paper he found. Cosmos wasn't sure what to look for so whenever he found anything at all he would play tug-o-war with it, until it wrenched loose of the mud, and then would proudly present it at Harry's feet.

Unfortunately, nothing he turned up was what Harry was searching for, and before long, the schoolyard started getting more traffic as the other children started to arrive.

Harry didn't have to ask to know that Cosmos wasn't going to leave his side until he was safely in the building, so he told him he was finished searching and waving goodbye went in the side door of the school and watched the black dog gallop away.

With dread, he pushed open the door to the empty classroom. Hearing a small squeak, he hoped for a moment that the little hatchling had made it on its own. However, a thorough search turned up only a squeaky branch rubbing on the window from the outside. With a sob, Harry left the classroom and went back outside. If the hatchling's body had been there, the janitor had probably swept it out with the rest of the rubbish.

The rubbish! Maybe they hadn't emptied the bins behind the school yet! He snuck towards the cafeteria wing of the building to continue his search. The hatchling was dead since he couldn't look for it last night, so the best he could hope for was finding its body so he could bury it properly. That only left his picture. He just had to find it! With the Dursleys back and Easter on Sunday, he was out of time. He knew once the Krueger's sent him back to Privet Drive he wouldn't ever get another chance.

Before school, Aunt Petunia had always had him so busy cooking breakfast and then cleaning up, that he would only make it to school on time if he ran the whole way. After school, he would have gladly walked home too, but Aunt Petunia would get mad if he wasn't promptly ready to leave when she arrived in the car to get Dudley. His Aunt enjoyed making a big show in front of the other mothers of having to pick him up as well, complaining loud and long about what a trial he was to raise, but how out of the kindness of her heart she had taken him into her home anyway. Harry would cringe inwardly, but would swallow his pride and do as required by dutifully apologizing for being such a burden and then thanking her in front of them for her generosity as he got into the car. Then Dudley would punch him in the arm all the way home.

No, if he returned to Privet Drive without his picture, he would never get another chance to search for it. He'd be too busy doing chores.

As the warning bell rang and the few straggling students hurried inside, he slipped furtively around the back of the school building. Seeing the full rubbish collection bins his heart leapt. They hadn't emptied them yet! His hatchling could be in there, and so could his picture. Maybe someone had already picked it up and had tossed it out thinking it was just litter. With renewed energy, Harry pushed over the first bin and started tossing the rubbish right and left in his frenzied search. It wasn't until he reached the bottom of the last bin that he gave up all hope.

Sitting in the cold damp rain, among the rotting rubbish, Harry felt miserable. Not even his teacher showing up and offering to help could raise his spirit's back up. In fact, it just made him feel all that more pathetic, especially when his teacher pointed out the colossal mess he had made.

Harry wanted to tell his teacher all about why the picture was so special, that way he would understand why he needed to find it so badly. However, his teacher was a muggle, and all things magical were a secret. Since Harry couldn't explain, he tried to shrug it off and downplay it, by starting to clean up the rubbish.

'_Mr. Nathraichean must really think I'm a loser now… making so much trouble over something as stupid as a picture…. But wait a minute, why isn't he making fun of me? Hey! He didn't even yell very much about the mess, or for me being late for class. He's almost being… nice. But…'_

"…why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why are you being so nice? I thought you didn't like me much." Harry started to wipe his nose on his sleeve, only to have his teacher hand him a clean handkerchief. "Thanks."

"Nonsense child, I do not _totally_ dislike you."

Despite all his plans and good intentions, Severus had absolutely no idea how to approach the boy about his proposal. Moreover, the current setting didn't lend itself to the attempt. Something like this needed impeccable timing, proper accoutrements, and a whole lot more courage than what he was feeling at present.

"But you should! I keep forgetting Salazar's rules! I'm just not much good for anything, I-I keep making mistakes." Harry blurted out kicking a tin can towards the bins in frustration.

"It is true your progress has chronically been impeded by injudicious actions, but it does not negate the fact that you have endeavoured to develop within your capacity to do so."

"Huh?"

"I feel that…" Grasping for words that the boy would understand, he flashed on Harry's heartfelt essay that right now lay neatly folded and tucked securely into his breast pocket. "I feel you've been trying hard, and that your efforts should count for something."

"You do?" Harry looked at him unbelievingly.

"I do. Now come. It is time we returned to the classroom. I fear that unsupervised, your fellow students will have reduced it to rubble." Severus held out his hand to Harry.

"Nah, it'll be alright… Dudley didn't come today." Harry replied putting his small dirty hand in the teacher's big clean one. Severus didn't even flinch.

"Small favours," he quipped lightly as they walked hand in hand towards the door.

"But what about the rubbish? Shouldn't I clean it up first?" Harry asked starting to pull back suddenly.

"I am quite sure it will be taken care of."

As they entered the door Severus covertly pulled out his wand and flicked it over his shoulder putting the bins to rights, the trash magically reversing its course until the last bin's lid rattled closed with a metallic clang.

When he entered the classroom, Severus was relieved to find the children hard at work on the math problems, and even more relieved to find that the head office hadn't noticed his absence in the classroom. Principal Speer had the annoying habit of popping in unannounced, for the express purpose of evaluating his staff's teaching techniques. A habit that Severus neither appreciated nor felt warranted. He was grateful that Dumbledore had never felt the need to do so.

Severus could just imagine the havoc that would ensue if the venerable old wizard were to show up unannounced during a potions class. He would probably start handing out Sherbet Lemons during the most critical moment of the brewing process. The ensuing explosions would more than likely level the castle. Principal Speer's interference was bad enough. If he found a classroom without a teacher in attendance, he remedied it by sending his assistant to watch them until the teacher returned. The last thing Severus wanted, today of all days, was another encounter with the lascivious Ms. Smythe, once was more than sufficient!

Standing in front of the classroom of children, which contained his soon to be son, made Severus suddenly feel as though he was back teaching his very first class as a teacher at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had so wanted to make a good impression. His desire then, just as it did now, turn into over zealousness and he soon had the class cowering in their seats as he randomly shot history, maths, geography, and spelling questions at them willy-nilly, sparing no educational venue.

The morning class flew by for Severus. It was remarkable how smoothly it went and how well behaved the children were when Dursley was absent from their ranks. All in all Severus felt in rare form and at one point he even started taking away points away, which just served to confused them as the only points they knew about were on the jacks with which the little girls played games at recess.

All the little boys and girls were more than ready to run away when the bell rang for recess. Harry was ready to run too - ready to run his legs off earning money for a new pair of trainers. He just hoped his teacher hadn't forgotten about that again.

"Any errands today Sir?" Harry asked hopefully as soon as his last classmate cleared the doorway. He decided his error yesterday afternoon had been not reminding Mr. Nathraichean sooner.

"Errands?" Errands were the last thing on Severus' mind, as all he could think about was asking Harry to be his son. The box with his gift was in his bottom desk drawer and now all he needed was the courage to present it. Harry reminding him of the errands and the reason for them, he began to doubt his wisdom of choosing that particular gift. The boy seemed so determined to buy his own shoes. Would he take his offering in the wrong way? Perhaps he'd better think on it some more, and errands would keep him occupied while he did it. "Oh yes, errands. Quite a few I am afraid."

Harry grinned. YAY! The more the better!

Severus soon had him running from one end of the school to the other, seeking out all manner of odd items, and delivering undecipherable notes to teachers with whom he'd rarely crossed paths. Unfortunately for Severus, Harry was very fast on his feet and no sooner had he sent him on one errand then he was back to start another. Making up plausible tasks for the boy left little time for thinking and contemplation. By the end of recess, Severus was more exhausted that was his employee.

It made him slightly cranky.

Needing time to think he passed out the new set of readers and assigned the children to read the first chapter and then write a five-inch report. They all bent their heads down in study save for one black haired head that kept popping up to grin at him. Once his tears over the picture had dried up, the boy had been so happy over the eggs return it was almost nauseating. Severus opened his middle drawer and fingered the picture and thought about how even happier he would be if it were returned as well.

Severus shut the drawer firmly and locked it. He had grown rather fond of the picture.

Throughout lunch, Severus kept Harry busy working. He had exhausted places to send him during the morning so he put him to work organizing the craft closet in anticipation of an afternoon project. Since Ms. Smythe had made such a public display of delivering the supplies, he knew the children would not allow him to ignore them any longer.

As he anticipated, when the children returned from lunch they were all bright eyed and ready for glue and glitter. The pile of pipe cleaners and construction paper flew off his desk and into their grubby little hands. And although they whinged for retraining on the art of paper flowers, Severus snidely told them that it wasn't his responsibility and that they should have taken better notes the first time as he..."doesn't like to repeat himself," they all dutifully chorused in unison.

As the children were happily occupied gluing themselves to their chairs, Severus grew more nervous. Soon the bell would ring and it would be time for Potter's afternoon detention session. It was his last opportunity. Was he ready?

He thought about all his suspicions of ill treatment and recognized that that was all they were - suspicions supported only by the offhanded innuendo supplied by Dursley. Yes, he had seen bruises, but without Potter admitting to the abuse, there was no hard factual corroboration. However, lack of evidence did not convince him that he was acting hastily. There were too many odd unexplained occurrences and noises at his current place of residence. Whenever he questioned Potter, he would become evasive and nervous.

Potter definitely needed protection from the inside.

There was also the very real (and hitherto unreported) threat from Lucius Malfoy. While Potter said he did not remember seeing him prior to the Park incident other than that fateful night long ago, Severus remembered Dudley's description of the monster in the pantry, and that of the man from the circus who had offered to pay him for his cousin just before the Dursley's house burned down. The description of both, while vague, could easily have fit Malfoy. If Malfoy had been that close to Potter three times already, his luck would surely turn soon.

Potter definitely needed protection from the outside.

He also thought about Potter himself. Left untrained his power could be dangerous. His school records attested to the fact that he had little self-control. He needed a firm hand and proper guidance, and soon. In the few short weeks he'd worked with him, the boy had blossomed. Waiting until he was eleven for further training was preposterous.

Potter definitely needed protection from himself.

He then went over all the reasoning that had led up to his decision to kidnap Potter from the muggles and raise him as his own. He concluded that he could not find any fallacies in his logic. It all made the utmost sense.

All he really had left was to plan what to do with him once he had him. First, he would change his last name to Snape and get rid of that annoying ..._'Krueger'... _moniker that irritated him so much. Then he would take the next year off to work exclusively with training Harry, a genuine sabbatical this time, perhaps they would even take a trip to Disneyworld in America to celebrate. In his mind he could see them posing in front of a fairytale castle, his arm around Harry's shoulder, and him gazing up to him with delight while a park employee snapped a new 'family' picture of the two of them. Harry would no longer need, or miss, that old torn photo with that poser James Potter in it. He would have a much better one in its place.

The more he thought about it the better the idea sounded. It was somewhere neither of them would be recognized and they could get to know each other as father and son, without the pressure of the wizarding world bearing down on them. Moreover, what child did not enjoy a theme park? After that, Harry would be eleven and a first year at Hogwarts. He would go back to teaching Potions and he would still be able to see his son every day. It was perfect. Now if only Harry would just see it that way.

When the bell rang there he was - anticipation shining in his emerald green eyes.

"Do you want me to clean up Sir?"

"What?"

"Wash off the glue? Sweep up the glitter?"

"No Mister..._'Krueger'... _I think not. First, I have an errand for you to run to the office. Please deliver this envelope to Principal Speer." Severus asked handing over his letter of resignation.

Harry grabbed the sealed envelope and was off like a shot. It seemed only a matter of seconds before the panting boy was back reporting a successful mission and asking to complete another.

The ball was in motion. There was no stopping it now.

"I have no more errands for you..." Severus started to say and was amazed at how fast Harry's face fell and how much it hurt him to see it do so. "No child, I am not 'firing' you if that is what you are thinking - quite the opposite."

Harry's spirits and ears picked up - was he getting a raise?

"However, before I get into that I would like to discuss our last vocabulary word - 'family'. Tell me child. Do you know what a family is?"

"Er... it's a noun...from the Latin word familia I think meaning household."

"No I mean... what _is_ a family?"

"A daddy and a mummy and their baby."

"Yes that would be a traditional family... but what does the word mean to you?"

Harry's eye shone as he answered, "It's the best thing in the whole wide world."

"And what makes it so?"

Harry got very serious. He had thought about that question a lot, especially recently. "Because a family _is_ a home. And home is the best place to be."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... where I used to live it was just a place to go and sleep, but where I live now it's filled by my family- so it's a home. If they weren't there it would just be an empty old building with no love in it."

Severus got up and started pacing. It was beginning to seem as if Potter might not exactly see it his way. He had to feel the boy out.

"All this drama over 'potential' lessons - it doesn't seem to me as if they return the feeling that you are a part of their family, or that you are welcome in their home. Would you not prefer a home, and a family, where you did not need to prove yourself on a daily basis?"

"It's not that..." Harry paused trying to find the right words that encompassed how cherished that he felt when he was around his parents, "When mummy… I mean when Mrs. Krueger, well when she hugs me, I feel happy all over - inside and out. When she laughs, it's like music, and makes me feel all warm and tingly in my heart. And daddy - Mr. Krueger... he makes me feel safe and protected. Someday I want to be just like him."

"I see..." Severus frowned. This was not going exactly as he pictured it. He'd like to know just what it was these muggles had that he had not. Stupid child. Didn't he realize that it was he, Severus Snape, making him feel safe and protected - not Mr. Neglectful-at-best? No of course not, because he lived in an alley. Potter hadn't a clue.

"You do? Oh good! Because I don't know how else to say it. I get ill just thinking about them being gone when I wake up, or waking up somewhere else where they aren't and not being able to find them again. That's why hatching the egg is so important, so when they move they'll tell me what their new address is... so that I can find them again. I have to find my potential by tonight. I just have to. But what if..."

"What if…what Harry?"

"What if… what if I'm never good enough for them? What if they keep moving and leaving me behind?"

"Then they are not nearly good enough for you," Severus snorted derisively and abruptly stopped pacing and strode up to his desk and took a box out of his bottom drawer and thrust it out to the boy. "Here. Take it. This is for you."

"Er... thanks Mr. Nathraichean... what is it?"

"Open it and find out," he replied with a hint of a tentative smile at the corners of his lips.

Outwardly, he was keeping it together, but inwardly he was terrified the boy was on the brink of rejecting him. This was such a BAD idea! His heart leapt into his throat while he waited the excruciatingly long time it took the child to open the box.

Harry carefully untied the knot of the string holding the plain brown box closed and peeked under its cover. Inside was a pair of shiny black leather shoes. Not dress shoes, but the very sturdy and durable kind good for wearing every day. Tough enough to hold up to miles of running and jumping, thick enough to keep out the biggest mud puddle, and yet soft enough not to give blisters, as if they had already been broken in.

Harry didn't know what to say.

Severus filled in the awkward silence.

"You are a child. You needed shoes, and you should not have to provide your own. These are sensible and they will not get holes in them like those abominable cloth things that try to pass as footwear. They are most likely large for your feet. Nevertheless, authorities in footwear mercantile assured me that is the proper way to buy children's shoes – to give ample room for growth. They are most suitable for a nine-year-old boy."

"I'm sure they are Sir. They are _very_ shiny, and _very _black, and it was _very_ nice of you to go to all the trouble, but..."

"But what? Is it the colour that bothers you? I can exchange them for dark brown."

"No, it's not that... it's just that... well, I can't accept them."

"Why not child? I bought them for you!"

"But I didn't earn them. I haven't done nearly enough errands for you to afford shoes like these. They must have cost at least thirty hundred pounds! I bet they don't even have these at Kings Cross Mall. I would have had to go all the way to London for shiny shoes like these. I was just going to get some from the clearance bin at the corner market." Harry closed the box and tried to hand it back. Severus refused to take it.

"Nonsense boy, consider it a gift. They are yours. Take them."

"No Sir, really... I can't." Harry got up and put the box on his teacher's desk.

"Tell me. Are you refusing my gift because I am not your guardian?"

"Well... yeah... I mean it's just kind of weird you buying me shoes and all."

"Yet you were willing for me to give you money for the same." Severus pointed out. "This way, you got them sooner, and of much better quality."

"But that's different! I was working for that money. And you don't pay all that well so I would have only gotten something cheap anyway." Harry said stubbornly. "And it's better that way, when I go back to Privet Drive my Aunt Petunia will probably let me keep them instead of making me wear these old tatty things. But yours? Dudley would get 'em."

"They. Will. Not. Fit. Him." Severus clipped out, vastly annoyed by the child's logic.

"I know. But she'll give them to him anyway." Harry shrugged acceptingly as that was just the way things were.

"What if you were not to go to Privet Drive? What if you were to go elsewhere?"

"But I wouldn't want to go anywhere else without my family."

"What if you were to have a new family?"

"A new family?"

"Me."

"You? But I thought you said that you weren't the paternal type?"

"I'm not. I will probably make a few monumental mistakes, but… I'm willing to give it a go. That is… if you are." Severus took a deep breath and plunged into the deep end. "Would you like to live with me?" The relief of finally asking the question made him weak in the knees. The last time Severus felt this nervous was when he had asked Lily to marry him, which stood to reason, as the lifelong commitment was the same.

"I-I'm sorry… I mean, it is really nice of you Mr. Nathraichean… _REALLY _nice. But… I just can't. I really want the Krueger's to be my family… I-I love them."

Severus' heart turned cold at the words. All his hopes, all his plans, all for naught. Not only was the boy too much like his father, he was also too much like his mother. Not even the feel of the warm little hand finding its way into his thawed it back out.

"Maybe you could be a part of my family instead? If… if they let me stay, I could ask…"

Make that exactly like his mother.

Severus didn't say a word. He couldn't. He jerked his hand away from Harry's in a purely pejorative manner and stormed out of the classroom, pausing only long enough at his desk to sweep the box with the shoes and bouquet of paper lilies into the rubbish bin.

Harry hadn't meant to upset Mr. Nathraichean! He really did like him in spite of how snarky he had always been. He was like that ugly jumper Dudley got from Aunt Marge. The one that Dudley stomped on and threw out the window, and Aunt Petunia rescued from the flowerbed and made Harry wear instead. The more Harry put it on, the more it grew on him. Harry stood alone in the classroom feeling crushed, and waited for his teacher to come back so he could apologize. But Mr. Nathraichean never came back.

When recess was over, a tearful Ms. Smythe arrived along with the children to supervise the class until the end of the day. Between sobs, all she would say was their teacher had handed in his resignation earlier in the day, then changed his mind and made it effective immediately.

Dudley's gang all cheered when they heard, as they knew that would have been Dudley's reaction had he been there. However, the rest of the children seemed very quiet and subdued. Their teacher may have been scary but he was never boring. They all wondered if it had been their fault for being far too untidy with the glitter and glue. After a while, they got up one by one and started cleaning up their mess until not sparkly speck or sticky glob could be found.

They didn't want Arts and Crafts if it meant losing their teacher - he was the one that gave them all the power! They had discovered that when they would go out for recess, and the jungle gym was already full of kids from other classes, or in the cafeteria when others had already taken the best table, they just had to mention their teacher and watch the other kids scramble for cover. Without him, they wouldn't rule the school anymore!

While the other kids just wondered if they were the reason he had left, Harry _knew_ that it had been his fault. Even seeing Mrs. Krueger, show up a half hour before class was over with baby Holly in tow, didn't put a smile on his face.

It also didn't put happy face on Virgie. However, it did have the effect of drying her tears immediately. How could she have been so blind? Virgie's red eyes narrowed as the pretty redhead carrying the baby on her hip entered the room. Rose Krueger! She looked just like the woman who was in the photo that her Jeffy-Poo had in his desk.

Virgie kicked herself for being such an idiot. She should have recognized the woman in the photo right off. Of course, she had been pregnant when she had last seen her before Christmas, but she hadn't changed that much in three months, except to have had the baby who was in the photo as well. That would make the photo recent... why that two-timing rat! No wonder he wouldn't give her the time of day!

On second thought, she only glimpsed the photo. It's possible she could be mistaken. Her Jeffy-Poo might _not_ be in love with a married woman. Tee-hee! She really should give him the benefit of the doubt and double check before jumping to any conclusions. Virgie reached down and rattled the locked drawer with the photo in it in frustration.

"Hallo Virgie," Lily smiled sweetly at her wannabe look-alike. "Is the drawer jammed?"

"No no no… I was just… um… what do you want?"

"I came to pick up Harry and I hoped to talk with his teacher for a few minutes first. Do you know where he is?"

"Probably out breaking someone else's heart," she sighed.

Lily chatted with Virgie for a few more minutes and when she discovered why Virgie was watching the class, she decided to take Harry home early. There was no point in waiting for the man if he had resigned. She would just have to make a point of meeting with the next teacher much earlier. She tried to cheer Harry up as they walk back to the flat hand in hand but Harry drug his feet and hung his head the whole way. Try as she might, she couldn't get a word out of him about what was bothering him, other than that he was sad that his teacher had quit.

When they entered the building, it was in as much of an uproar as it had been the day before. Piled everywhere were half-filled boxes of Dudley's junk, and Sirius and Padfoot were carrying parts of the dismantled bunk bed out of Harry's bedroom to what they called the 'staging area' - the large rug in centre of the living room. On top of it, they were putting everything that was going back to Privet Drive.

When Harry heard that, he made very sure to keep off the rug by walking on top of the furniture to get from one side of the room to the other. When he got to the far side, he had to make a standing jump and somersault combination to roll into his room without touching it.

"Hey champ! Where'd you come from?" James asked as Harry came rolling to a stop at his feet.

"Out there," Harry answered pointing towards the living room by flinging an arm over his head backwards.

"If you ask a stupid question..." James started.

"...better hope for a stupid Judge!" Sirius finished gaily as he stepped neatly over Harry on his way back in.

"Huh?" Harry asked from the floor.

"Pay him no mind Son. The Judge wasn't stupid at all, Remus was just smarter." James laughed holding his hand out to help Harry up just as Remus came in, looking embarrassed at the praise.

"I don't know that I did anything particularly noteworthy per se… I think the credit for a successful outcome should go to your dad and your Uncle Siri. They did all the hard work. Can you hand me that Prongs?"

"I beg to differ Moony! Without your convincing acting, honest face, and trustworthy demeanour our highly creative documents explaining the Dursley's finances in a less factual, and therefore less felonious manner, would have been scrutinized far more closely than what would have been healthy." James pointed out as he handed him the requested implement, which Remus quickly used to dislodge a sticking bolt.

Sirius who had been struggling with an identical bolt with just his hands for the past five minutes looked at the tool incredulously. "What's that thingamabob? Why don't I have one? Is it some sort of new fangled wand? Is that's why you're keeping it from me?"

"Ha-ha! Uncle Siri! It's a wrench! Don't you know what that is?"

"A monkey wrench? Heh-heh! Like what Remus threw at Vernon?"

"Uncle Remmy threw something at Uncle Vernon?"

"Your Uncle Siri is just being facetious. Remus did a bang up job. I'd hire him any day of the week. Don't let him tell you any different." James corrected

"Did Aunt Petunia hire him to drive her around?"

"Ha-ha! No way!" Laughing he started helping Sirius take apart the bottom bunk.

"Is that because you threw the wrench at Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked again because the humorous image was still stuck in his mind.

"No, that woman is too busy driving everyone else."

"She's still driving her car? Does that mean she and Uncle Vernon are still on Holiday?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, they're here… well not 'here' here… they're 'there' there… and so is Dudley, there that is, not here."

Seeing the confused look on Harry's face James stepped in to clarify. "What your Uncle Remmy is trying to say Harry, is that your aunt and uncle wouldn't step foot in our flat. They only paused at the curb only long enough to pick up your cousin. Ha-ha! I don't think they even let the car come to a full stop. But I am curious why you thought your aunt would hire Remus to drive her anywhere."

"He was all dressed up this morning like a chauffeur. Only he needed the hat. She probably wouldn't have hired him if he wouldn't wear the hat. She's real picky like that."

Sirius hooted with laughter at that and offered Remus Dudley's cowboy hat to wear.

"I think you got the wrong impression and that's my fault. I didn't explain what was going to happen today very well at breakfast, as Dudley was in the room at the time." James quit packing up Dudley's clothes for a few minutes so he could take a break and look Harry in the eye while he talked to him to make sure he understood. Leaning against the wall, he continued.

"We didn't want to get your cousin's hopes up prematurely in case something went wrong. It's also the reason why we didn't move all this stuff earlier. We didn't want to disrupt everything if we were just going to have to turn around and bring it all back."

"But we have been moving the boxes we stored upstairs in my flat over the last few days in preparation. I figured he wouldn't miss them since he hasn't touched any of that junk since he arrived. ARRRGHH! Stupid bolt!" Sirius added not being able to make the wrench work for him.

"Here let me get that for you," James said taking the tool from him and loosening the bolt in a jiffy. "We just told Dudley he had a 'surprise' coming. If for some reason his parents had to stay where they were, we were going to give him a little treat that we bought for him, and say it was from his parents - _not_ that I advocate lying you understand."

"That's silly! He would have known a _little_ treat wasn't from them." Harry laughed at the thought.

"Why's that?"

"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon _never_ get Dudley just_ one little_ treat - they're all BIG and there's always lots of 'em!" Harry demonstrated by throwing his arms out wide. Startled Remus jumped to get out of the way of one of Harry's arms, and ended up backing into a stack of Dudley's clothes packed in boxes, toppling them over and spilling the contents back out in a heap.

"When the boy's right - he right. There is_ lots_ of stuff," he said as he started repacking.

"Heh-heh! So true. But not just lots of stuff, lots of BIG stuff - and it's all heavy. I'm just glad we're about done moving everything pack to Privet Drive. My back is killing me," Sirius added rubbing it for emphasis.

"Er… I got an idea... since Uncle Siri's back hurts so much... maybe you should all quit for now. I mean you don't have to move…_everything _back tonight … Do you?" Harry tried to sound casual as he felt frantically in his book bag for the egg.

The shell didn't feel any different from the last time he'd checked it and now the little creature seemed to be sleeping. Harry hadn't wanted it to hatch too soon, but now he thought it couldn't hatch soon enough. He had to stall!

James' eyes narrowed with concern. Lily was right when she said they needed to pay closer attention to what Harry _wasn't_ saying. He didn't know what she meant at the time, but watching him now, it was evident that his son was trying to ask something without actually asking anything - he just didn't know what that something was... yet.

He was about to ask Harry what it was that he really wanted to know, when Sirius slipped on a mouldy pile of apple slices that Dudley had hid under his bed - causing him to fall backwards into a box of Dudley's electronic toys.

"**OW!" **Sirius howled like a stuck pig as all the various antennae, buttons, and knobs sprouting out of the box poked him in a lot of terribly tender spots. Over the loud beeps and whirrs of the toys protesting being sat on, Sirius swore and declared. "No way kiddo! Every last freaky thing in the Marauder Mansion is shipping out tonight or my name isn't Sirius Arcturas Rigel Polaris Mirfak Black!"

Remus laughed. "But your name isn't Sirius Arcturas Rigel Polaris Mirfak Black. You don't have any middle names."

"I know, it just sounded more impressive that way. But not having a slew of middle names doesn't mean I'm any less determined," he vowed as he pulled the worst of the offenders out from under his bum and tossed it aside to hear it die with a pitiful whinge.

Harry shoulders sagged. Okay - so it was a no go on the stalling. Thinking back to his Salazar lessons he remembered his teacher saying that there was power in knowledge. That's what he needed - information. If he could just get an idea of how long he had before they remembered to move him too, maybe he could come up with another plan.

Trying to add a disinterested look to his carefully composed nonchalant air he asked, "Soooooo… what'cha gonna put there? Another bed? Or are you going to use this room for um... something else?" indicating the space where the double-decker bunk bed was being dismantled.

'_So that's what he's worrying about!' _James thought, _'He doesn't think I'm really going to put his room back the way it was as I promised too. Well, I'll put a stop to that right now!'_

"Don't worry Son, it's staying a bedroom. We're moving Holly's crib back in here," he told Harry to reassure him that everything really was going back to 'Pre-Dudley' status.

"Just Holly's bed? Won't you need another one?" Harry asked thinking that if they hadn't given up on him entirely then they would be planning beds for three children instead of just two, so that the new baby would have one too.

"Definitely not, two beds in here are more than enough." James replied making the topic non-negotiable.

He wanted to be sure that Harry knew without a doubt, that once out, Dudley was NOT going to move back in. Then as soon as the school year was done, Lily and he planned to gather up their little family, godfathers included, and make their first foray back into the wizarding world. They had decided that wherever they stopped, they would make sure their new home had enough rooms for all of them. Lily was already planning to turn decorating Harry's room into a another mother-son Arts and Crafts project complete with real shooting stars on the ceiling.

"Oh..." Harry's shoulders sagged a little more. They must be planning on moving him back tonight too. "... I think I'll just er... get out of your way..." he said edging backwards out of the room.

"You're not in our way. After all…" When James looked behind him, Harry was already gone. "...it's your room. Hey? Where'd he go?"

Sirius looked behind the bottom mattress they had leaned against the wall. "He's not behind here. Must have left," he shrugged.

"Do you think he understood what we're doing?" James asked his friends.

"Why? Is there a problem?" Sirius asked.

"It's just that we haven't been doing such a hot job at explaining things to him lately."

"I understood," Remus said. "But then I was in on the planning, and I'm not nine."

"Clear as mud to me too," Sirius agreed.

"That good huh?" James sighed and dropped the wrench so that he could heft the narrow mattress up under his arm and carry it out of the room. "I better go make sure."

When he walked into the living room, James found Harry standing on top of the comfy couch pulling Holly up off from the rug to join him. He heard him tell her that if she knew what was good for her, she really wouldn't want to be down there.

Holly giggled, cooed, and held her fat baby hands out to him, happy to be anywhere her big brother was.

Besides the fact, that playing where she was in the middle of the rug, Holly was in danger of being scrunched by the ever growing stacks of Dudley's junk - James knew there was something else driving Harry's concern. Moreover, he had a suspicion that Harry's quick departure from the bedroom was another clue he hadn't deciphered. Only before he could ask him what was going on, Dudley burst in through the front door – red in the face from running, and panting for all he was worth.

"I-I-I… _(pant pant pant)…_ ma-made… _(pant pant pant)…_ it!" he gasped out collapsing on the rug, arms flung out spread eagle, chest heaving from the unaccustomed exertion.

Upon hearing their former charge's noisy arrival, Sirius and Remus popped their heads out the bedroom door curious as to what was going on. Seeing him laying out prone on the floor, Remus hurried into the kitchen to get him a glass of water while Sirius sat down cross-legged on the floor next to him and felt his pulse.

"No permanent damage - he'll live," Sirius announced right as Petunia and Vernon Dursley rushed in, stopping dead at the threshold – Petunia with her hand to her mouth in shock and Vernon huffing, puffing, and as red in the face as Dudley had been.

"_WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DUDDY?"_ Petunia screeched in horror.

"Whatever do you mean Tunie?" Lily asked following Remus out of the kitchen carrying two juicy ripe oranges in her hands, one for Harry's afterschool snack, and a second one for Dudley since he decided to join them unexpectedly.

"Make that- that… _filthy 'person'… _unhand my baby!"

"Who me?" Sirius asked affronted and sniffed under his arms. Satisfied that he didn't reek all that much, he shot back, "I resent that - I took a bath!"

Dudley sat up at looked at his mother with exasperation. "Muuuuummmm! I _TOLD_ you I'd be right back! Geeze! I am NOT a baby! You didn't have to follow me!"

"But Popkin! You've been acting so strange all afternoon pulling everything out of the drawers and cupboards. Then you..._**ran**__... __**on purpose**_... _**here**__!_ I really think we ought to take you to the physician, you might be coming down with something horrible!"

"It was that lot there that did it to him Pet," Vernon voiced his opinion. "Told you no good would come of it - putting your sister down as your contact. I should have insisted on Marge. The twits infected him with something peculiar no doubt."

"Come in, please Tunie - you too Vernon. See? Dudley is just fine." Lily handed her nephew his orange and invited her sister and brother-in-law to come in and sit down, signalling Harry to move over to make room on the comfy couch. Harry did more than make room - he took his orange and Holly and hid behind the chair on the other side of the room. However, even with no one on the couch to crowd them, Petunia and Vernon refused to sit on it for fear that whatever was wrong with their son would spread to them.

"What do you mean he's_ fine_? He's NOT fine! He's anything BUT fine! I trusted you with my baby angel! I only did it because you promised you would cherish him, and now look at him! He's practically skin and bones!" Petunia tried to crush him to her breast but he kept just out of reach.

"MUM! How many times to I have to tell you - there's nothing wrong with me!" Dudley said rolling his eyes back in his head and using a large piece of the orange peel between his teeth and gums to make a big orangey grin. Petunia gasped faintly.

"Stop that! You're frightening your mother! If there is nothing wrong with you then why did you come back to this rat-trap?" Vernon demanded to know. "Did they do some of that gobbledygook gibberish on you?"

"No Dad! I just wanted my surprise!" Dudley claimed taking the orange peel out.

"Your surprise? What surprise are you talking about Popkin?"

"Auntie Lily promised me a surprise today and I didn't get it yet and you didn't bring me any home. I know, because I looked _everywhere_ for them! There wasn't ANY at ALL! So I came here! I WANT MY SURPRISE! I WANT MY SURPRISE! I WANT MY SURPRISE!" Dudley wailed stomping his feet.

"Now_ that's_ more like our widdle Dudster-wudster," Sirius whispered loudly to Remus.

"But Dinky Duddydums... _**we**_were your surprise - Daddy and me! Weren't you glad to see us?" Petunia wheedled.

"Sure. But you forgot my presents! I WANT PRESENTS!" His parents exchanged pained looks at his demand, without the gold they were going to have to live within their own means for the first time in years. As much as it hurt them to do so, not wanting to deny their precious son anything, they had agreed that the first thing to go would be the extravagant shopping trips to buy toys that only caused Dudley to turn up his nose.

"But Popkin… we talked to you about that… we are… uh… on a bu-bu-bu-bu-bu-"

Harry thought his aunt sounded like she was trying to blow bubbles. Holly giggled and blew some baby drool ones herself which dripped all down Harry's arm.

"Budget. The word is 'budget' Petunia. B-U-D-G-E-T You can say it, it won't kill you." James said dryly earning a glare from Vernon at having to admit to any such restraint.

"Hey I was talking! I want to know what that's got to do with me." Dudley demanded looking back and forth between his parents. When neither his mother nor father hurried to reassure him that it didn't, he got a horrified expression on his face as the ramification hit him. "Am I really a poor little tyke now?"

"Not at all Dudders, that's just a lot of claptrap and twaddle, best not to listen to them, they're all nutters." Vernon blustered pompously, taking his son's fake tears for real. "Come - we're leaving," he announced trying to pull Dudley out of the flat.

"If it's not true, then I want my presents! If you can't give me any then I at least want my surprise!" Dudley demanded digging in his heels and wrestling out of his father's grasp. Free - he finally looked around at the other adults in the room.

His Aunt Lily and Uncle James, and even those two weird freaky guys who didn't mind him calling them uncles, they were all looking at him with disappointment. It all of a sudden mattered to him very much what they thought of him, and he started to tear up in earnest this time knowing that he'd let them all down. They were the first adults who had really seemed to care what he did, what he thought, and how he acted.

Lily looked pleadingly at James. "Can't we…?"

James shook his head 'no'. He was not about to reward his nephew's tantrum. Only Dudley did something then that he had never done before without prompting, pleading, a few threats, and without a gift to compensate him afterwards – he apologized!

"That's okay Auntie - Uncle James is right, I don't deserve a surprise. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have barged in, and yelled, and all that stuff. I was being a... a... brat. I am glad you're back Mummy, you too Daddy. I did miss you. I was just mad you went on Holiday without me. I'll just be going home now..." Dudley turned sadly towards the door.

Vernon's draw dropped open gobsmacked, and Petunia looked as if she would faint.

"Not so fast Dudley," James called him back and picked up a small package wrapped in plain brown paper and held it out to him. "Your apology is accepted, and I have one in return. We did get you a little something, and I should have given it to you earlier."

"But I was a rotten little boy..."

"True."

"Hey! You weren't supposed to agree with me!" Dudley sounded miffed.

James smiled slightly, "Go ahead and take it anyway. We'll call it a going-away present."

"If I take it... does that mean I have to go away and I can't ever come back and visit?"

This time Petunia did faint.

"Pet! Pet!" Vernon caught his wife and patted her cheeks to bring her round. "Don't worry Pet we'll get him the best specialists to be found!"

"But we're on a bu-bu-budget!" she wailed.

"Cool! Mum look! It's a cookery book and a butcher's apron!"

"A what? But you don't cook Duddy..." Petunia tried to tell him.

"It's not one of those thingamajigger's for those whatchamacallits is it?" Vernon asked suspiciously referring to potion books and cauldrons in the only words he could come to terms with.

"Heh-heh! No, it's '_One Hundred and One Ways to Cook Eggs'," _Sirius pointed at the title. "That was my idea!" he said proudly.

"Wow! Thanks! Uncle Siri!"

"The apron was my idea," Remus added hesitantly. "Just in case the eggs get enthusiastic in return."

"Neat! I'll wear it, and that'll make Mum happy! Won't it Mum?" Dudley clutched his gifts glowing with happiness.

"You mean you actually... cook Popkin?"

"Heh-heh! 'No' on the popkins, but he can whip up omelettes with the best of them!" Sirius laughed. "It turns out he has a real talent for it. It's like he's one with the food."

"My Duddy is so clever!" Petunia gushed. "He will be the greatest chef in the world! We'll send him to the finest culinary schools, no expense spared! Won't we Vernon?"

"Nutters, everyone's gone completely nutters..." They could hear Vernon muttering as he dragged his wife and son away. "There wouldn't be all this folderol going on if Marge had been in charge, thank you very much!"

Standing in the doorway, Remus and Sirius watched their former charge until he and his parents disappeared down the pavement and around the corner. Petunia wasn't quite right - while the Marauders had kept Dudley running away from them all week, effectively exercising away some of his chub, he was still more than a healthy weight for his size.

"They grow up so fast. It seems like it was just a short two weeks ago that he waddled into our lives," Remus remarked to his friend. "And now he's waddling back out."

"Do you think he'll write Moony?"

"Probably not Padfoot," Remus shook his head. "We forgot to teach him how."

"Oh dang. Well - back to packing," Sirius sighed.

"You know Padfoot... the Dursleys didn't drive here. They followed the Dudster here on foot. That means..."

"...if we hurry we can beat them back to Privet Drive!" Sirius finished with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Petunia did look as though she might need some help coping." Remus added with an identical gleam.

"Heh-heh! So did Vernon! Maybe we could give them some Dudster pointers!"

Before Lily could say, _'Don't you dare!' _the devious duo disapparated - mattress in tow.

"Whew!" Lily said flopping back on the comfy couch exhausted. "Do you think my sister and her husband will survive?"

"I'm sure Moony and Padfoot won't do any _permanent_ damage my love," James replied flopping down next to her, and then leaned over to whisper in her ear, "By the way... I think we have an audience," he said nodding at the big comfy chair across from them.

Two pairs of bright emerald green eyes ducked back out of sight, only to have their hidey-hole given away by happy baby coos delighted at the new peek-a-boo game.

"I wonder where my children got to - have you seen them James?" Lily called out loudly smothering a smile.

"Not for hours and hours... it's too bad too," James replied just as loudly.

A wild lock of jet-black hair, and a tuff of fuzzy red, rose slightly from behind the chair.

"Why's that James?"

"I have another present here, and no little boy left to give it too," he said with a big wink.

As soon as Remus had left for court that morning, James and Lily had taken advantage of a practically empty house to leave Dudley and Holly with Sirius, and go shopping for Harry. At Sirius' suggestion, they had included a stop at a bookstore to pick out a cookery book for Dudley's backup 'surprise'. They had agreed that if they gave the book to Dudley today, that they should give at least one of the new things they bought for Harry to him as well, and not wait until Easter. They didn't want him to think that Dudley was the only one who ever received presents for no reason.

"I'm a little boy, will I do?" A shy voice asked as the two pair of green eyes joined the locks of hair above the edge of the chair back.

"Oh! There you are! Yes, I think you'll do nicely." James said holding the rectangle box on his lap where Harry could see it.

Harry edged around the room with Holly in his arms, hopping from spot to spot being careful not to touch the rug in the middle, to manoeuvre into a better vantage point from which to see. It was quite a tempting box, almost tempting enough to lure him close enough to touch it. The box was wrapped in shiny blue and green striped paper, and tied with a large yellow bow. He reached out with one finger, almost… almost… and then drew it back quickly.

"If you don't open it pretty soon, I just might have to do it for you... I can't resist bows." James said with a smile playing on his lips as he tried to lure Harry in a little closer.

"That's true, he can't..." Lily confirmed seriously, taking Holly out of Harry's arms so that his hands would be free to attack the box as soon as he caved in. His finger was again getting dangerously close to the loop of the fluffy bow. "I wonder if it runs in the family."

James nudged the box from underneath until it 'accidentally' caught on his son's tentative outstretched finger. "Oops!" he said as the bow loosened. "Might as well finish the job," he suggested.

Harry didn't need a fifth invitation to take possession of the box, even if it was still hard to believe that they truly meant it for him. Opening it, he still wasn't positive it was meant for him, although the brand new never-before-worn trainers inside were exactly his size.

Taking the trainers out of the box Harry was in absolute awe. He'd never held such wonderful things in his hands before. They were so clean and white that they gleamed. Tape free, not a hole in sight, and the soles didn't flap at all! Best of all, they even had one bright red stripe and one bright yellow stripe down each side. Dudley's only had one stripe and it was grey!

If he hadn't heard Uncle Siri say that the cookery book Dudley opened had been his idea, Harry would have thought they had accidentally switched the boxes. But... maybe this one had been meant for Dudley too... Mr. Krueger just said it was for a little boy, he didn't really say it was supposed to be his. If it really was… was it a going away gift for him too? If so, he didn't want it. He carefully put them back in the box and closed the lid.

"Don't you like them sweetie?" Lily asked a bit disappointed at his stoic reaction.

Harry didn't know what to say. It was déjà vu. His second pair of shoes in one day, and he was still wearing tatty trainers held together with a kilometre of tape.

James filled in the awkward silence.

"I know we were a bit slow to get them, but we did promise you some new shoes. They weren't the fanciest ones at the mall, but we looked at the kind that Dudley has and they really weren't that well made for the price, all we would have been paying for was the logo. That's probably why they fall apart so quickly. The ones we got you are top of the line - the kind that real athletes wear."

"I'm sure they are. They are _very_ clean, and _very _white, and it was _very_ nice of you to go to all the trouble, but..."

"But what? Is it the colour that bothers you? We can exchange them. They had ones with green and silver stripes on them too. We... well that is I, I just thought you might like the red and gold better…"

"No, it's not that... it's just that... well… won't Dudley get mad if I wear them?" he asked worrying his bottom lip. He really wanted to ask the other question about if it was his going away gift, but decided this one was less risky.

"So what if he does? It's not as if they would fit him, his feet are at least two sizes bigger. Here – let's try them on you!" James said enthusiastically tearing open the box again. Tossing the shoes to Lily to unlace, he slipped the tatty ones off from Harry's feet and pitched them overhand into the trash bin.

Harry's hopes bottomed out as Mr. Krueger slid the shoes on his feet. They fit as if they had been made especially for him. Darn it! They _were_ intended for him! Darn it! Darn it!

"Thanks…loads. They're…er… brilliant."

Mr. and Mrs. Krueger were both looking at him with hopefully expressions on their faces, so Harry covered up his worry with the best grateful face that he had in his collection and tried to sound happy about receiving them. Only he wasn't.

No matter what they said, it did matter if his cousin was mad. Even if they were supposed to be Harry's - Aunt Petunia would snatch them right off from his feet the minute that he walked in the door and then she'd give them to Dudley. If Dudley even suspected that Harry had worn them first, he would poke holes in them and give them to Aunt Marge's dog Ripper for chew toys. He couldn't tell these nice people that! They would just think he was ungrateful for letting something like that happen to their gift.

"Great!" Mr. Krueger grinned from ear-to-ear. "Now that that's settled I better go help the boys finish the moving, or we'll never get this done."

"Okay honey," Lily said giving him a kiss goodbye. "When you get there, would you please make sure they haven't turned them into anything slimy, okay?"

"Is slimy all that matters?" James asked with a mischievous glint as he picked up several cartons and disapparated to Privet Drive before Lily could add any additional restrictions to her 'Do not torture the In-law's' list.

"I will never understand that man." Lily commented to Harry as she laughed at her husband's departing antics. She was relieved that today had gone better than she had expected. For despite all their planning, the Marauders just as well known for their spectacular flops when it came to pranks, as they were for their unqualified successes.

Harry couldn't have agreed with her more, but to go one-step further – he didn't understand either of them.

Sitting down in the big comfy chair with his book bag on his lap and his feet stuck straight out in front of him (as long as he already had the trainers on he figured he might as well admire them), he counted down the minutes and waited for the inevitable. Only Mrs. Krueger was too busy dancing with Holly in little circles, and singing happily, to remember to walk him back to Privet Drive. Mr. Krueger kept popping back every five or ten minutes for another load of boxes and bunk bed parts. Every time he did, he gave Harry a big wink and a smile, and Harry would steel himself to be picked-up under his arm like one of the boxes and hauled off. Only Mr. Krueger would leave again without him. What was with that?

If they were in such a hurry to return him today, why did they keep forgetting to take him back? Being on the edge of his seat finally wore Harry out and he fell asleep exhausted.

When he returned from Privet Drive after moving the very last box, James found Harry curled up sound asleep in the big comfy chair. With his brand new never-before-worn-by-Dudley trainers on his feet, and his book bag clutched to his chest, he just looked so darn cute that James picked the tired boy up and carried him into bed. He was happy man as he sat there by his bedside and lovingly carded his fingers through his son's messy locks. Life couldn't get much better than this. He had his family all back together again, under one roof, and his in-laws, _all_ of them, were out from under the same - permanently this time - crossed fingers.

"Looks like they are both tuckered out," Lily said coming in a few minutes later with baby Holly asleep in her arms. "It's a good thing I made soup for dinner. We can just heat it up later when they wake up."

"I think this one is out for the night. It was a big day, and he did it all with about every stitch of clothes he owns on." James said nodding at the pile of clothes that he'd taken off from him in order to put his pyjamas on.

"Why ever did he do that for?" Lily whispered back.

James shrugged. "I told him last night about the possibility of his Aunt and Uncle coming back today. Maybe he thought his would get mix in with Dudley's when we packed."

"I hope that was all it was," Lily said as she joined him and sat down in the wooden rocker. Now that they had moved Dudley out, it was back in the children's room between the crib and Harry's bed. The gentle motion of the rocker made a steady creaking sound in accompaniment to Lily's soft singing.

_Lah la la-la la la… la la la  
lah la lala la-la …lah …lah ….lah  
_

"What's that song?" James asked softly, gazing lovingly at his wife. "It's nice."

"Just a little lullaby I used to sing to Harry whenever it was stormy as it is tonight, or when he had a bad dream." Lily laughed lightly. "There were times that I could have sworn that he was pretending to have one just so he could stay up and cuddle. The last time I remember singing it, it was that night when… well that doesn't matter now, except that I can't quite remember it anymore."

Lily brushed the memory aside, along with a stray tear. "It was just a silly little rhyme anyway. The tune is an old muggle one my mum used to sing to Tuney and I when we were small, but I made up my own words for Harry. I just wish I could remember them," she said regretfully. "I have so very little of that time when he was young like this, and I miss it so much. I miss him James…I miss my baby."

"But he's right here Rosie-posy, right here," James said rubbing his son's back, just to be sure of it himself.

"Maybe his body is Jimmy," Lily said reverting to the comforting nickname, "but not his heart, not yet anyway. Did you see his reaction to the shoes? It was as if he didn't want anything from us… anything at all… and I haven't heard him call me his mummy in weeks. What happened? What did I do wrong?"

"I don't think it was anything you did… me maybe… but not you. All I know is it is going to be okay, I promise. Maybe now that Dudley is gone…"

"I'm sorry, having Dudley here was a bad idea. I shouldn't have forced him on you, on our family. I was just hoping that I could help him."

"But you were right Lily, Dudley is family too, little monster that he is. Besides, you did help him. He knows now there is someone who truly loves him and wants him to be good, even when he doesn't know what that is himself. Thanks to Sirius and Remus, he left a different boy than when he came. In fact, I think we all opened his eyes, and he has a chance now to turn out okay."

"But at what price? Did I do more harm than good? And was helping Dudley worth it, when Harry is farther away from us than ever in spirit?"

"I don't know Lily, maybe if we'd read those pamphlets earlier, or listened more to what that muggle adoption counsellor said when she told us it could be a difficult transition for all of us. But I couldn't see it. In my mind, I already felt adjusted so I thought it would be easy for Harry too. After all, it's not as if he wasn't ours to begin with. I was a fool to think that all those years apart wouldn't make any difference."

"I just wish…"

"What do you wish Lily? If it's within my power, I'll get it for you. You know I will."

"I just wish there was still some connection. I keep looking for something, but it's as if we're total strangers to him, he was so little at the time… I suppose it's foolish to hope that he remembers anything of us at all from that time. He has no reason to trust us, or anything we say. And I can't say that I blame him, he's been through so much because of us, and when we have a chance to start making that up to him, what do we do?"

"We forget his shoes." James replied wryly.

"What kind of parent does that?" Lily shot back, upset more at herself than anyone. Her eyes softened at the pained look her words brought to her husband's face.

"I'm sorry James. I didn't mean to take my frustrations out on you. It's just that we've missed out on so much with him that we can't ever get back, and time goes by so quickly. Now he so grownup, and such an independent little man, not really even a child anymore."

"That's true. I've been aware of it myself. I was just hoping it would go away, like one of Remus' phases." James agreed with a soft laugh and sadness in his voice. "At times he acts more grown up than the rest of us put together. Well at least Sirius, Remus, and I."

"And have you noticed James? He hardly ever plays, except with Holly. It's only when he's playing with her, when he doesn't think anyone is around, that he drops his guard and lets himself be happy for a few minutes. I suppose since he had to take care of himself for so long, that he really doesn't want, or need, a mummy anymore. Just look at Holly, she's only fifteen weeks old and she is already growing so big and independent too. Soon she won't need me either. She almost turned over again today, before long she won't want me to rock her to sleep every night, she'll be asking to borrow the broom, and we'll be arguing over her hair and clothes, and who's she dating…"

It broke James' heart not to be able to grant Lily's wish, so he kiddingly mentioned the next best thing he could think of, to try and get her to smile.

"I think it'll take a bit longer than that, since I'm not going to let her date until she is at least twenty five. Of course, I might have to lock her up in her room until then. And don't forget, by the end of the year you'll have a new baby to rock and cuddle," he teased, placing a hand on her belly, while behind him in the bed Harry's eyelids fluttered half open as he squirmed restlessly in his semi-sleep state.

"Yes and that will be wonderful, but it just won't be the same. Don't get me wrong Jimmy, I love this new baby that's coming, and I am excited about it… but even if it's another boy, he can't ever replace the time I lost with my firstborn son." Lily gazed longingly at the messy black tufts peeking above the bright green quilt. "I love my sister, even with all her faults and shortcomings…"

"Even though you want to rip out all her hair right now and shove it down her self-righteous throat," James cut in with a wry smile.

"Yes, even though that… but…"

"But what?"

"But I wish she and Vernon had never gotten their hands on our Harry. What they did to him…" a shudder ran through her as she thought back over all she had learned during the past two weeks from Dudley. "James, will we ever _really_ have our baby back?"

"I have to believe it'll happen. It's just going to take longer than we hoped, but we won't give up until it does," he said reaching over and squeezing her hand reassuringly.

With that solemn vow hanging between them, Lily started to rock and hum again but fell silent as she got near the end of the verse. In the hushed quiet, a sleepy little voice finished it for her…

…_if I close my little eyes now… da da da  
dada da dada da da in my …sleep …sleep ….sleep  
_

Lily gave out a slight gasp. Harry remembered! Her baby remembered his lullaby! James somehow knew just what to do and lifted the now sleeping Holly out of Lily's lap, and gently replaced her with her sleepy older brother – clutched book bag and all. As Harry snuggled against Lily's heart, all the words came flowing back to her as if they had never been apart…

_Sleep little baby and don't you cry  
your mummy will sing you this lullaby._

_See the ten little stars twinkling bright?  
'till nine little fairies steal their light._

_While eight little unicorns run a race,  
seven little kelpies will swim with grace._

_When six little kneazles join the play,  
five little crups will chase them away._

_There'll be four little billywigs all bright blue,  
and three little dragons to dance for you._

_Your two little green eyes will spy their match,  
in one little snidget for you to catch_

_Close your little eyes now, and don't you peep.  
Sleep my little baby …sleep …sleep …sleep_

When the sweet lullaby was over, James smiled softly and kissed his wife's cheek and the top of his son's head.

"See? It will be all right. Somewhere deep inside, he knows he's ours," he said lifting Harry off her lap and snuggling him back into his bed. Then with hopeful hearts, Lily and James tucked in their sleeping children and kissed them goodnight.

James placed the stuff stag in next to the all important book bag, and after Lily checked to make sure they still had all ten fingers and all ten toes (she counted both sets twice just to be sure) and whispered 'sweet dreams my babies', and he turned out the lights.

After his parents left, Harry cuddled up in his sleep with his stuff stag under one arm, and his book bag under the other, and continued to sleepily hum his own words to the lullaby that had comforted him through the long nights when he had gone to sleep all alone and unwanted in his little cupboard…

…_if I close my little eyes now and I don't peep  
daddy and mummy will come back to me  
in my …sleep …sleep ...sleep  
_

And sweet dreams he had. Happy dreams of having flour fights with his mummy while helping her bake biscuits. Joyful dreams of riding with his daddy sky high on his broom. Cheerful dreams of playing peek-a-boo with his baby sister. Merry dreams of playing pranks with his godfathers. Proud dreams of his teacher handing his back a test with a big red 'P' for Potential on it. Blissful dreams of loving hugs and of being cherished, while being held close in his parent's arms. Wondrous dreams of the little egg hatching alive and well. Contented dreams of everyone together in one big happy family.

'…_crack…'_

"Wha'… was that?" At the unusual sound in his ear, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sat up, and looked over at his sister's crib. Holly was sound asleep sucking on her thumb.

'…_crack…'_

This time Harry jumped out of bed as the sound was coming from under his covers.

'…_crack…'_

"Oh my! The egg is hatching!" Harry breathed excitedly and reached into the book bag for the nest box. Pulling it out, he felt along one of the tiny hairline fissures. Instead of separating, the rough edges were holding fast. It reminded him what his teacher had said about strengthening the shell and how the little creature would need help when it came time because she wouldn't be able to break free on her own. He had to get her help! He had to get her to Mr. Nathraichean! Right now!

Harry rushed out of the bedroom before he realized that it was dark and that no one was still up. What was he going to do? His godfathers! They would help. After all, it was their egg. They had an interest in it too.

He rushed to the circular stairway, but when he got there, the doors were up shut tight. He put his ear to the doors and he could hear faint snoring coming from his godfathers from both above and below.

After all the work that they had done the day before to help James move Dudley's things back to Privet Drive, both Sirius and Remus had collapsed as soon as they had gotten back to their flats. Mr. Krueger had told him when they first put in the staircase that if he ever saw the doors closed that mean that they weren't supposed to be disturbed. Mrs. Krueger said it wasn't because they didn't like his company, but because they both needed their rest as they were both still recovering from ill health.

Harry bit his lip with indecision. His parents probably wouldn't like it at all if he woke them up… but… sometimes a boy has to do what a boy has to do.

"**HELLLLLLLLLP!" **

James and Lily startled wide-awake at the blood-curdling scream coming from the living room. Harry was in danger! James came hurtling out of the bedroom with a panicked look on his face and his wand aimed at the garish purple, pink, and green object his son was carrying in his outstretched hands.

"Drop it Son and back away! I'll take care of it." James commanded aiming his wand at the florescent thing intending to vanquish it from existence with a well placed _'Evanesco'_.

"No! No! It's hatching! It's hatching! I have to get it to Mr. Nathraichean!"

"It's _what_?"

"It's hatching! My egg is hatching! Please! We have to GO!"

"That's the egg?" James asked surprised by its appearance and poking at it with the tip of his wand. It was definitely not something he wanted to see hatch anywhere near his children. "Looks a little different from what I remember…"

"Please! I have to get it to my teacher! He'll know what to do!" Harry pleaded pulling on his dad's pyjama sleeve with one hand and protectively cradling the egg against his body from attack, with the other. "Please! It's hatching!"

"But Son, that's what eggs do. Besides, it's the middle of the night! Even if your teacher is up, we are NOT going to disturb him at… at…" James stretched his neck to look at the clock in the kitchen and gasped, "…_AT_ _TWO IN THE MORNING... for an_ _EGG! _Besides eggs… if that is indeed what that still is… hatch naturally. They don't need anyone to help them."

James was firm in his opinion, but he was also a bit puzzled and wondered just what his son thought his muggle teacher could possibly do for a hatching egg. In addition, if it was a dragon inside, and he suspected it was, it certainly wouldn't do to have this Mr. Nathraichean anywhere nearby when it hatched. Exposing a muggle to magic was the surest way to have the Ministry of Magic show up uninvited on their doorstep.

"But _my_ egg does! Dudley tried to kill her and if I don't get her to Mr. Nathraichean, she'll die! He's the_ only_ one that can save her! Please? It's a matter of life and death!" When James still looked sceptical, Harry turned the same pleading eyes on his mum who was just coming out of the bedroom pulling on her robe.

"Pleeeeasssse? She'll –she'll…die…."

Lily looked from Harry holding the egg, to James holding a wand on it, and knew instantly from the looks on their faces, what was going on. As much as she hated to deny Harry anything at this point, she had to back James up on this. A dragon wasn't a good pet, and they couldn't have the Aurors showing up with Sirius here.

"I'm so sorry sweetie, but your daddy is right." Lily took his hand and gently tried to guide him towards his bedroom, but it ended up more like dragging him while he protested with every step. "There isn't anything your teacher can do to help the egg hatch. It's time for you to hop into bed, by the time you wake up in the morning it will have hatched on its own," and mentally adding _'… and then hopefully, it will fly far away before you see it.'_

"But she can't!" Harry wailed. "She's dying!"

"Eggs hatch all the time, what makes you so sure this one won't, if it's already started?" she asked reasonably, "I'm sure it will be fine. You've done a fine job getting it this far. Now it's up to the hatchling. And if for some reason it isn't strong enough… well that's a part of life too, even though it is very sad, but sometimes things weren't meant to be."

"But you don't understand!" he yelled trying to pull away.

"Then tell me. I want to understand - but you have to let me in. Tell me what's wrong."

Harry looked around wildly for a way out, but all he saw were his parents staring at him. His breath got shallow and rapid and he felt trapped. Everything started to fray around the edges and go out of focus. In his panic, he read their concern for the same disgust that his Aunt Petunia had for him, whenever he had gotten up the nerve to stand up for himself - as if he were something nasty smelling she had stepped in accidentally in the park, that needed to be scraped off her shoe.

"No! You won't understand! I have to take her to Mr. Nathraichean!"

"Harry calm down," James ordered. "We said no. We are not going to disturb your teacher, especially not in the middle of the night. You can see him Monday at school."

"But… but…. he won't be there!"

"Harry's right. Virgie told me Mr. Nathraichean quit today."

"Please?" Harry begged.

"If it's that important to you son, we will find him for you… tomorrow," James offered.

Harry didn't know what to do. His heart literally hurt, he loved his family that much. If he didn't successfully hatch the egg, he would lose them for sure. The egg would die without help, and Mr. Nathraichean was the only one who could provide it. Only his parents wouldn't take him to see him, and tomorrow would be far too late!

When Dudley wanted something, he would pitch a fit and miraculously he would get it. He hated resorting to being a Dudley again - but if that was what he had to be to save the egg, and so in turn to save his family, then he would be a Dudley! He would be the very the worst, the very loudest, and the most obnoxious Dudley he could possibly be!

In desperation, he took a deep breath scrunched up his eyes, wrestled loose from his mum, and let out a wail at the top of his lungs. Stomping his feet, he started throwing a Dudley sized temper tantrum.

"**I HAVE TO GO SEE MY TEACHER! **_**NOW**_**!**"

The louder he screamed the more intense the energy waves were that rippled off from him, until the whole building was shaking, and windows were shattering. Splinters of glass ripped through the air around Harry in an ever-tightening vortex.

Simultaneously Sirius' head drop upside down from the ceiling door, and Remus' head popped up from the floor. Both, just as a particularly lethal looking shard zoomed past them on a direct course to impale their beloved godson.

Before either of them could react, James swiftly reached out, yanked Harry out of its path, and turned him his over knee. One swat was all it took to shock Harry into abruptly stopping his tantrum. As soon as he did, the flying missiles dropped like dead weights to the floor. All the adults were speechless at the raw magical power the little boy had just displayed. Shaking, James sat him back on his feet and hugged him fiercely.

"I'm so sorry I had to do that son, but don't_**ever**_do that again! You scared me to death! You could have been killed!"

Harry just pushed away and glared at him accusingly, and rubbed his backside. Mr. Krueger had never paddled Dudley. Not once! No matter how bad he got, and he threw at least one tantrum a day!

"But the egg!"

"Not another word about that egg young man." James warned him turning him around by the shoulders and marching him back to bed. "Right now I'm thinking it's better if it doesn't hatch. I'm sure your teacher is very smart. Smart enough to be asleep at two in the morning. And it is time for little boys to be asleep as well, and big boys too," he said over his shoulder at Remus and Sirius who were hovering nearby, curious as to what had started the ruckus. "Back to bed – _everyone!"_

"Um… right-o! We were just leaving, weren't we Moony? Hey Prongs… before we do, may we speak to you a minute?" Sirius asked hesitantly, as James seemed to be in a particularly foul mood.

James came back out, shutting Harry's door behind him. "What?"

"Er… we were just wondering if now was a good time to switch the egg. Moony thinks the replacement chick is about ready to pop any time now. And ah… we thought that maybe we'd better get it done before he makes a midnight snack out of it. Since Harry's is about to hatch as well, we figured it's now or never, and thought maybe you two wouldn't mind if we cast a little sleep spell…"

James gave the pair a withering glare.

"Now hear us out Prongs! We know you said 'no' every other time we suggested it, but we thought… maybe just long enough to do it, of course. So what do you think? Yes?"

"No. Don't bother. The switch isn't going to happen any longer. We'll just have to deal with it when it hatches." James said shortly. He was annoyed with both of them that he even had to deal with the situation. "I think Harry would notice now anyway."

"Um… why's that?" Remus ventured to ask.

"Because it's turned a weird colour, that's why."

"Weird?" Sirius asked, his voice getting a little excited. "Like say…a _very_ pretty silver?"

James gave his friends a speculative look, his eyes narrowing as he started to frown. He wondered just what they had been up to, and why they didn't seem the least bit surprised at the change in the egg.

"No like a hideous purple covered all over with green and pink spots. The way Harry's been protecting it I hadn't gotten a good look at it until just now, but it certainly doesn't look like a chick's egg any longer. Why? What's this about silver?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged meaningful looks… Ooo! That was NOT good! Occamcy eggs were definitely silver, starting out white, becoming more and more pure silver as they matured. Dragon eggs on the other hand… "Er… nothing Prongs, nothing at all." Sirius said as he and Remus high tailed it out of there before James could ask any more questions.

"Wait a minute! Come back here you two! Explain yourselves!" James called out in vain as both doors, top and bottom, locked simultaneously from the other sides with decided 'clicks' as the bolts shot into place.

"So what was that all about?" Lily asked when everything grew quiet again.

"With those two? Who knows? Only Harry… he was acting just like Dudley, but worse. And did you feel that power? I wonder if that's what that prophecy was all about – he was supposed to have some power that you-know-who didn't."

"I don't know James, maybe… but what brought it on? Just a few hours ago, he was so happy and cuddly, and I was so hopeful we were starting to connect finally. What got him so upset? Do you think it was the egg?"

"Yes, it was that blasted egg! You saw it didn't you?" When she nodded, he continued. "I'm sure it's a dragon egg now, and I was so startled to see it that I'm afraid I reacted badly - very badly," he shuddered. "You know what this means don't you? We're going to have to take Harry's pet away from him, and he's going to hate us for it. Merlin, I don't want to do that. He's probably not going to forgive me for spanking him anytime soon either, and then breaking his heart on top of it. I sure won't be getting a 'World's Greatest Dad' mug for father's day – that's for sure. "

Lily sighed in agreement. "I suppose I've known for days that we weren't going to be able to remain blameless."

"The way I see it, it doesn't matter what Moony and Padfoot does about it now. When it comes down to it, Harry will still blame us. I know it. Why can't we ever catch a break with that boy? Maybe I'm just too old to be a dad…"

"It's far too late for that, so I'm going to throw your words right back at you." Lily said putting her arms around his neck and looking up into his sad hazel eyes. "I have to believe it'll happen. It's just going to take longer than we expected, but we won't give up until it does."

"You do have a way with words my love." James said sighing and holding her tight.

"So I've been told."

James and Lily headed back to their own bed, not realizing that on the other side of the flat, two little pairs of green eyes were wide-awake, staring at each other.


	18. A Patchword Egg: part 13

Harry put the hatchling egg back into its nest box and then into the book bag. Looking at his brand new trainers, he hesitated at first, then grabbed the pair and laced them on before he could change his mind. After pulling his favourite jumper on over his pyjamas, he dragged a chair over to the window. When he started to climb out Holly protested.

"Shush Holly!" Harry held a finger to his lips. "Don't tell them I left, okay?"

"…_gurgle…coo… ree!"_

"No, you can't come with me. It's dark out."

"… _lee pa-foo... ka-ma...kama kama… lee!"_

"Don't you dare wake up Uncle Siri!"

"… _gowa?... ree?... lee ree?"_ Holly asked reaching through the bars of her crib towards him as her face started to scrunch up preparing to bawl.

"Don't cry Holly! It'll be all right, it will. I'll be back soon, I promise. Just don't cry."

"… _ree! …ree! … gurgle-gurgle…"_

"Oh. That's right… Mr. Krueger said he was going to lock you in your room until you were twenty-five... that's really old," he commiserated.

Harry looked at his baby sister who had changed her tactics and was now putting on her cutest face for him. He couldn't stand the thought of them locking her in a little cupboard as he had been. She was so little, and it wasn't fair! Except for changing her hair colour, she hadn't done nearly as many freaky as he has. Nevertheless, if he didn't find a way to save the egg, he wouldn't be here to save her from that fate. He supposed, in a way, Holly had as much riding on getting the egg to his teacher as he did.

"Okay, but you got to be quiet." Harry said slinging the book bag with the egg over his shoulder and grabbing Holly's blanket and wrapping her snugly in it, before easing the door open. Now that he was carrying Holly, he would have to leave by the front door instead. Thankfully, the living room was quiet and there was no sign of anyone still up.

With a lump in his throat, Harry looked one last time at his parent's bedroom door, then he tiptoed into the kitchen and left a folded paper on the table weighted down by a banana. After his dad had tucked him back into bed, he had tried one more time to convince Mr. Krueger to take him to his teacher, but his dad was too angry to listen, and had stormed out of the room without hearing him.

He knew it was his fault everyone was upset, and decided that the least he could do was to leave a note for them, to tell them how sorry he was for being a disappointment. When they had made valentines in class, Uncle Remmy had taught him that a simple message could say more than a whole dictionary of words, as long as you wrote it from your heart.

With his baby sister in his arms, Harry locked the front door behind them with his key, and then tiptoed out of the building, taking special care to step over the squeaky board on the front stoop.

When they got to the pavement, Holly decided she wanted a snack if she was going on holiday, and started to fuss, so Harry gave to her his door key to teeth on. That lasted about two seconds until Holly gleefully dropped it behind them as he cradled her to his shoulder. The key made a nice clinking sound as it hit the hard ground, and glinting teasingly in the glow of the streetlight as it bounced into the rainwater-filled gutter.

It really took so little to entertain Holly and make her giggle. She didn't know where they were going, but decided to gnaw on her brother's shoulder instead, deciding to just be content to be along for the ride. She would even put up with the attention stealing egg coming along, if it meant getting to go somewhere with her big brother!

By the time that Harry got to the play park at the end of the block, Holly was getting heavy so he sat down on the merry-go-round to rest. The night was cold and damp, and what had only been a light mist when he started out had turned into a steady drizzle. Wiping his glasses off on his sleeve didn't help, as they just steamed up.

Looking after his baby sister's welfare, he slipped her under his jumper and t-shirt next to his skin, to keep her snug and out of the rain. As he sat there in the rain cradling her to his chest, he finally stopped to think about his not so brilliant unplanned plan.

All he had been able to think about when he left the flat was getting the egg to his teacher as soon as possible. He never considered that he had no idea where his teacher lived. He had to come up with another plan. He needed someone who could help him find him. There was Stan who drove the Night Bus… no, he hadn't thought far enough ahead to bring his toy wand to signal it to stop, besides he didn't have any money, and Stan charged a lot of money to take you some place, and he didn't think he better charge anything else to Mr. Snape.

His Aunt Petunia's house was in the neighbourhood on the far side of the play park, and he was sure he could make it there, but even if he rang the Dursley's bell, he was just as sure that they wouldn't help him find Mr. Nathraichean. They would just lock both him and Holly up in the cupboard before he would be able to get a word out of his mouth. There had to be someone else…

Harry shushed Holly and hid in the deep shadows when he heard footsteps approaching the park. His heart beat rapidly as thoughts of Death Eaters ran though his mind, so he breathed an immense sigh of relief when instead of scary masked men in long black robes, he saw the Dursley's neighbour, Mr. Prentice. Mr. Prentice stopped under a streetlight just outside the gate, to let his little dog Mitzy sniff at the odiferous pole. After adjusting his collar against the rain, he tugged on her leash and moved on past the park.

With a pang of jealousy, Harry thought about his Uncle Siri. He wished he still had a dog. One would be very handy right about now, to help watch out for danger and protect Holly. Only he was on his own. He didn't even have a cat. Watching his neighbour walk his dog past the park sparked a brilliant idea.

The Dursley's other neighbour…Mrs. Figg! The cat lady!

After having spent an adventurous holiday with her last year, he had grown a soft spot in his heart for the ditzy little woman. Mrs. Figg would help him find his teacher! He just knew it! She was always up for an adventure, and had the most brilliant ideas!

With renewed hope, Harry bundled Holly close to him, and headed south. When he got to the corner outside the park, he stopped dead, one foot on the pavement and one hovering over the street. He wasn't supposed to cross this street unless someone was with him. After due consideration he decided that Holly counted as a 'someone' and before he could change his mind, he jumped off the curb with both feet and hurried across Magnolia Road, down the long curving Magnolia Crescent, and towards the alley way that led into his aunt's neighbourhood and Wisteria Walk where Mrs. Figg lived.

By the time that he got to Mrs. Figg's cottage, his arms were tired from carrying Holly. Leaning against the fence around her front garden while he caught his breath, he wasn't surprised when he felt something curing around his legs. Mr. Figg's cats had always acted as a de facto doorbell to let her know when someone had arrived for a visit. However, tonight Mr. Paws seemed to be the only one up and about, and he seemed more interested in what Harry was doing, than in letting Mrs. Figg know he was there.

Harry bit his lip. He hadn't planned to wake anyone up. In his mind, since he was awake, naturally so would be everyone else - even if Mr. Krueger had thought differently. Mrs. Figg liked him… but would she still like him if he roused her out of a sound sleep? Even Mrs. Krueger had seemed cranky when he had woken her up.

His heart started sinking like a stone. How was he going to continue searching for his teacher? Then he remembered the bicycle! Mrs. Figg said she would keep Ruby Red there for him, safe from Dudley's clutches. Now if only she had kept her promise!

Trailing an increasing number of cats behind him, Harry raced toward the shed in the back garden, and carefully opened the wooden door, thankful that the thunder covered up the protesting squeal of the rusty hinges. Ruby's reflectors must have caught light from somewhere, as they winked at him in a friendly fashion from the dim interior.

Relieved to find her, Harry went in, watched by a crowd of witnesses. Now not only curious Mr. Paws, but Snowy, Tibbles, and Tufty too, were all perched on the shed roof while they observed his stealthy movements.

"I'm just borrowing Ruby." Harry assured Snowy as she haughtily twitched her tail at him as if to say that he really should ask Mrs. Figg first.

"It's okay she said I could use the bicycle anytime I wanted to. See it's mine – Hey! It even has my name on it!" He proudly noticed that Mrs. Figg had affixed a little license plate to Ruby Red's back fender that said 'Harry'.

Snowy was not impressed. Neither, for that matter, were Mr. Paws, Tibbles, or Tufty.

They were all incredibly smart, and could read quite well, but they all thought that Harry was forgetting something more important and felt obligated to point it out to him.

"YEEEOWWWWLLLLLLL!"

The cats started a chorus of protests every time Harry started to push the bicycle out of the shed. They would drop silent immediately every time he stopped.

"Really it's okay! I'll be careful!"

It didn't matter what he said, his assurances were not what they wanted.

Realizing the little boy was not fluent in kneazlease, Tufty finally jumped off the shed roof and strutted haughtily inside followed by Tibbles. The two leapt gracefully on top of a stack of rickety boxes and pushed the top one off, which fell to the ground and spilled out its contents with a clatter.

"Oh! Now I know what you want!" Harry cried out with understanding as the bicycle helmet rolled to a stop at his feet. Propping the bicycle up with the kickstand, he sat on the dirt floor of the shed and put on the safety equipment Mrs. Figg had purchased for him the summer before.

Satisfied, the cats then watched as Harry took off his jumper, shook the rain off from it and slipped it over Holly, so that only her eyes were peeking out the neck hole. Then he wrapped the arms snugly around her and stuffed her carefully into the basket affixed to the handlebars. Finding a small piece of rope in another box, he tied it over her like a seat belt, and then slung the book bag with the egg in its sofa pillow cocoon back over his shoulder by its strap.

With the cat's blessings, he wheeled the bicycle out to the curb in front of Mrs. Figg's little cottage. Taking a deep breath while he tried to decided which direction to head, he noticed that the storm that had been crowding the sky all night was swirling even more angrily above them. The lights of the town added to the eeriness by illuminating the clouds from below, outlining the break between two especially ominous thunderclouds in stark relief. They resembled warriors posturing for an epic battle, thunder their battle cries, and lightning their swords. Between the two towering combatants, the clouds parted slightly, allowing for a tiny bit of velvety night sky to reveal itself, where as if belying the menacing scene, a single brilliant star twinkled merrily.

Harry could almost hear his Uncle Siri urging him to be quick and make a wish.

_Starlight, __Starbright  
First star I see tonight  
I wish I may, I wish I might  
Have the wish I wish tonight_

"…I wish – I wish that I can find my teacher's house so he can help me save the egg and I can keep my family." Harry closed his eyes tight and wished with all his heart and soul. "I hope it worked," he said softly then opened his eyes and asked Holly. "You ready?"

"…_giggle…coo… wee!"_

"Okay - hang on!" Harry gave Holly a tremulous grin meant to be reassuring and waved goodbye to the cats. Pushing off, he pumped as hard as he could, racing down Wisteria Walk, careening around a sharp right turn at the end of the lane and onto Privet Drive. Faster and faster and faster he went. As they neared the block where Number 4 stood, Ruby Red recognized the place where she'd suffered at the hands of her former owner and took over. Harry could feel the bicycle lift off the tarmac and then they were flying!

Holly cooed with delight as they floated right over the house, the tires clattered noisily over the roof tiles as Ruby bounced several times before she made a tight circle around the chimney, and soared high into the sky. Harry, who had felt the knot in his stomach growing bigger with each peddle stroke that brought him closer to the Dursley's house, almost sicked up when he saw his Uncle Vernon's head poking out the upstairs window trying to see what was making the racket on his roof.

He closed his eyes and held on tight, trusting to Ruby Red that she knew where she was going. As they sailed off, he could hear Dudley's faint yell behind them of _'Hey that's my bike! Where's it going?'_ followed by Aunt Petunia's shrill shriek, as she yelled at his cousin to get away from the window before he fell out.

Harry could feel the knot loosening the farther away they got from Privet Drive. And as irrational as it seemed, seeing as they were flying blindly through the cold wet night with no idea where they was going, he felt as if Ruby Red was being guided by an unseen hand, and he knew they were safe. It felt familiar somehow.

It seemed as if they had been riding for hours, over fields and villages, when the clouds broke open to welcome the rising sun. Its rays turned the rain from the night before into a fog, whose ghostly fingers rose to snatch at Ruby Red's tires as she began to descend towards the ground near a mucky river in a very shabby part of an industrial town.

Bouncing to a stop on the rough cobblestones Harry scrambled to keep the bicycle upright so that Holly wouldn't tumble out of the basket. Unhappy to having been woken so rudely, Holly made her displeasure known with a protesting wail as Harry brought the bike to a stop in front of the last dilapidated house on the lane.

The house that Ruby Red had taken him to was stark and dreary, nothing about it at all was inviting. Even the tiny neglected patch of grass that tried valiantly to pass itself off as a garden was mostly brown and dead. Parking the bike, Harry took off his helmet and padding and dropped them in a pile beside it. Then he lifted Holly out of the basket and rubbed her back to comfort her, except that Holly refused to be comforted.

The adventure had started out fun, and she was okay with that, but she was not okay with being hungry. She had had enough fun, and it was time for her big brother to take her home to her mummy!

"Shush! Shush! I know you're hungry. So am I. But we'll get something to eat soon," he promised rashly as he hadn't thought to pack any bottles of milk either. "My teacher told me he didn't starve children and he's really not such a bad sort. I think you'll like him and maybe he has some hot cocoa he'll let us have."

Harry hoped that would be true, as he was soaked to the bone and was envying Holly, wrapped up snugly in his jumper, so that only her nose was slightly damp.

As Holly grew more vocal in her protests, Harry could hear the sound of someone in the rundown house tripping over something, and from the profanities coming from the other side of the door, that person seemed as unhappy as his sister did. If it had not been for his desperation, Harry would have turned around right and left. Only he had come too far to lose courage now.

Shivering with equal parts cold and nervousness he swallowed, stepped up to the front door and knocked, hoping against hope that Ruby Red had taken him to the right place.

At that very moment, hundreds of kilometres away, James was yawning sleepily as he stretched and thought about the wonderful Easter weekend that he was going to have with his two children. As of yesterday, he was again a man of leisure with his two-week notice at work completed, and he was looking forward to spending a lot of quality time with his son and daughter.

He hoped that they could avert any further crises over the egg, and Harry would finally have some fun. That boy just didn't have enough fun, and he intended to change that by taking him flying later that day. The few times that he had been able to take him, Harry had seemed to be a natural at it. That's just what they needed to become the family they should have been - a nice happy celebration, sans one trouble-making nephew.

Getting out of bed, he gazed out the window and felt renewed. A little father-son time was just what they both needed, and the day was perfect for it. The morning was dawning bright and gloriously clear, the gloomy thunderstorm clouds that had crowded the skies for the past weeks had scrubbed the air clean and left it fairly charged with possibilities. On a day such as this, almost anything could happen.

Lily woke up and blissfully joined him at the window. Leaning back against James, with his arms wrapped around her, they watched together as the sun come up over their finally peaceful home. Maybe a bit too peaceful…

"James… do you think Harry is still upset with us over last night?"

"I'm sure it's blown over by now Lily," James said optimistically.

"I'm not so sure about that - he was pretty upset."

"He'll be ecstatic when he wakes up and finds out that he hatched a dragon. Then his mean ol' pop will take it away from him and send it to Romania. Then he'll be upset again. But right now? Nah, I'm sure he's fine."

"But he's normally up before we are. I don't hear him, and I can usually smell bacon by now." Lily fretted.

"He was probably drained from that display of accidental magic. I'm not surprised he's still asleep. Speaking of which… that was some magic, wasn't it? He must get it from my side of the family." James said proudly.

"Holly isn't fussing either…" Lily refused to quit fretting. "And the house seems so quiet."

"Okay – spoil the moment. I was going to romance you a little, but if you insist - go check on the kids, and I'll jump in the shower," he said playfully swatting her and sending her on her way as he went to the shower and turned on the hot water tap, luxuriating under its pulse. Only the hot steamy water didn't prevent his blood from running cold when he heard Lily scream a few moments later.

"**JAMES!"**

James jumped back out of the spray and ran into the living room as he wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbing his wand out of the toothbrush holder as he ran by. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, but he wanted to be prepared.

"They're gone! The window is open and they're gone!"

"What's gone?"

"Not _what_ - who! Harry and Holly! Their room is empty!"

"They must be upstairs with Sirius. Holly's been practically living up there lately. Harry probably took her up for a visit since we were still asleep. Did you check?"

"No I haven't, but I don't need too James. They're not there. They're not anywhere near. I can feel it in my bones."

James didn't want to doubt Lily's motherly intuition, but he still thought it prudent to at least pop his head upstairs and take a quick look around. After all, he'd feel pretty silly if they were up there playing while he was out scouring the neighbourhood for them.

Personally, he didn't want to think of the possibility that they weren't there, because he couldn't think of any reasonable reason Harry would have taken his baby sister out of the flat on his own early in the morning, especially not through the window. And if he didn't do it on his own… well, the alternative made his stomach turn over.

"Won't hurt to just check, besides, if they aren't there we'll need help looking for them. Why don't you go down and check with Remus, and I'll go up?"

James felt better having a plan in motion, so while Lily knocked on the floor hatch to Remus' flat, James went up the circular staircase. He was relieved when he found the door at the top slightly ajar, and poised himself to jump out and scare the living daylights out of his son in retribution for the heart failure he had caused him.

"BOOoooooo… oh." James looked around the darkened room with the sick feeling growing in his stomach as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. The kids weren't there.

The cubbyhole! Harry was upset last night. Maybe he hid in the attic cubbyhole he had found last Valentine's Day. James went to where the bedroom door would have been (if hadn't been taken off its hinges by a claustrophobic Sirius), and peered in. He found Sirius sprawled out on top of the bed without even a sheet to cover up his bare form.

James shook his head in disbelief, since Sirius kept all the windows of the flat wide open, it was a wonder he wasn't continually ill with a nasty cold. In fact, to ensure they would stay open (as they had the oddest tendency to close and lock spontaneously) Sirius had finally nailed a wooden prop into each sash. Since escaping from Azkaban, Sirius had a real issue with anything confining – closed windows, closed doors, and clothes in general, which is one reason James had sent Lily down to Remus' while he volunteered to check upstairs.

Tiptoeing past the snoring form of his friend, he opened the hidden door to the cubby, calling out a soft _'Gotcha!'_ When he wasn't rewarded by a boyish giggle he lit the tip of his wand with a _'Lumos'_ spell to light the small space. To his disappointment, the only things illuminated by the soft glow were dust bunnies. Dismayed he backed out of the cramped spot and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Padfoot! Get up and get dressed. We need your help."

"Wha…?" Sirius sputtered groggily, still mostly asleep.

"I said get dressed Padfoot. You're not decent."

"You're one to talk Prongs." Sirius said cracking one eye open and observing his friend sitting on his bed wrapped in nothing but a towel. "Decent doesn't start until after lunch."

"Come on! I said get up!" James said pulling him off the bed by one foot until he fell to the floor with a crash.

"Okay! Okay! Get your bloody mitts off from me Prongs! I can get up on my own."

"Did you find them?" Remus asked worriedly poking his head in.

"Is that what this is all about? I thought we weren't hiding the Easter eggs until tomorrow night." Sirius said standing up and sleepily rubbing his eyes.

"It is tomorrow, and it's not Easter eggs that we're looking for - the kids are missing."

"Did you look… _(yawn)…_ in their beds?" Sirius asked stretching unashamedly.

"Merlin Padfoot! At least put your pants on!" Remus chided him.

"You're just a bunch of girls." Sirius snorted, but snatched his clothes up off the floor and proceeded to get dressed anyway. "So where did you lose them Prongs?"

"That's just it - I don't know. I don't know why my son keeps running away, or why this time he took the baby with him. I don't even know where to even start looking, and it's entirely my fault," James admitted softly. "Lily's going to kill me when she finds out, but with everything going on yesterday, I… I didn't remember to set the protection spells last night. I'm just hoping they left on their own - Lily said the bedroom window was open..."

Remus and Sirius exchanged worried glances. That wasn't like James at all. He usually set them three times just to be absolutely sure they took, and then once more for good measure. After Voldemort's attack, his family's safety was the one area where James was definitely paranoid, to the point of it being an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

"What about the tracking charm you put on Harry's key? Did you try that? The kid never takes it off of the string around his neck." Remus suggested helpfully.

"Er… a tracking charm? The key had a tracking charm on it?" Sirius stopped putting on the jumper with one arm in the sleeve and one arm in the neck hole, guiltily thinking about the tracking removal spell that the goblin Bogrod had cast on the key when they were at Gringotts. "Maybe we would have better luck with a point-me locator spell."

"What do you mean 'had' a charm on it? What did you do?" Remus asked suspiciously.

"Me? Nothing… I'm just throwing out a helpful suggestion," Sirius shrugged and turned the jumper around so his head went through the hole instead of his arm, and then shoved his feet into some shoes.

"Okay, let's get this search party going. Last one downstairs is a rotten Easter egg!" he called out and made a dash for the stairs, and reaching down, he grabbed a hold of the railing and did a neat somersault down through the hole to land on his feet on the floor below before James and Remus could ask him any more incriminating questions.

Remus and James followed him down, but not nearly as showily as Sirius had done it. Lily met them at the bottom of the stairs, worry written all over her face.

"James... I checked their room again. There are some things missing - Harry's book bag, that box he's been keeping the egg in, his green jumper and his new trainers. And then I found what's left of your broom in the closet," she held the mangled pieces out to him. "Do you think he broke because he was angry with us over last night?"

"Ooo... don't think Harry did this," Sirius said inspecting the shards. "They've got the unmistakable mark of the Dudster all over them. See? Those are his sticky fingerprints."

"Well, why did he run off then?"

"Maybe this will explain it," Remus said between bites of banana as he came back from taking a second look around the kitchen. "I found this on the kitchen table," he said holding out a scrap of paper with Harry's writing on it to James.

With a sinking hearts, James and Lily read the note.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Krueger,_

_I promised __to never leave the flat without telling you where I was going so I am writing you this note to tell you that I am going to find Mr. Nathraichean and take him the egg. He really is the only one who can save it. And that is really really really important. Holly wanted to come too. She__'__s just a girl and she is too little to be locked in a cupboard by herself so I let her come with me. But don__'__t worry, I will take really good care of her _

– _Respectfully, Harry _

_P.S. I am so sorry to be a disappointment. I really did try._

"That blasted egg again! I just knew it was going to be trouble the minute I laid eyes on it!" James swore under his breath.

"That's a way to conveniently rewrite history," Lily looked at him incredulously, "As I recall it wasn't all that terribly hard for your good buddies here to convince you to give it a chance. Besides the egg isn't the problem here James. Harry tried to tell us last night how important he thought it was to take the egg to his teacher, but we refused to listen to him. If anyone disappointed anyone here, we disappointed him. And now he's run away because we're h-h-hor-horrible parents!" Lily wailed and flung herself into James' arms.

"There – there Rosie… we're not exactly 'horrible'. We're just um… 'normal'. And now at least we know they left on their own."

"But I want my babies back! And we don't even know where to start looking for them!" Lily sobbed inconsolably, "Maybe we should call his teacher. Yes! That's what we should do. We should call Mr. Nathraichean. He's sure to have a phone!"

"I don't know about that." James said slightly reluctantly. More because he wasn't sure if he wanted to confess to the man, whom his son had turned to in his time of need instead of him, that he had lost his children, rather than it was that he thought it a bad idea.

"But James… what could it hurt? We won't take too much of his time. The worst that could happen is that he will tell us he hasn't seen them and then tell us to go away."

"But Lily – it's Saturday, it's early, and we don't know where he lives." James pointed out all too reasonably.

"That didn't stop us before." Lily stopped crying long enough to point out just as reasonably.

"But that was a matter of life and death!" James protested.

"And according to Harry, so is this." Lily countered.

"It's just an egg for Merlin's sake."

"No, it's Harry's egg, and in his words - it's very very very important."

"But we almost got caught last time."

"So we'll be more careful this time."

"So it's illegal."

"So what? A little technicality like that never stopped you before."

"So you're the law abiding one."

"So maybe you've rubbed off on me."

"So may I ask what you two are arguing about?" Remus finally cut in.

"Breaking into the school," they both replied in unison.

"Count me in." Sirius proclaimed, ready for anything.

"Me too," Remus agreed. "I haven't done a good break-in for oh… weeks now."

"Please James, can't we hurry up? If Harry didn't go to his teacher's than we need to know that too, so we can start looking somewhere else."

"You heard her - time and illegal acts wait for no one. Let's go," James said resigned.

"Teachers lounge?" Remus suggested.

"Yeah," James agreed, "Since you know where you're going, take Sirius with you. Lily shouldn't be apparating in her condition so we'll follow you on foot. Just make sure the side door is open when we get there. And watch out for the guards."

"There are 'guards' – plural? As in more than one?" Sirius frowned slightly.

"Yes. There were some vandals around Christmas time who broke into the office, so Principal Speer hired extra…" Remus started to explain and then realized who the 'vandals' had been from the sheepish looks on James and Lily's faces. "Oh… I get it."

"Well I don't!" Sirius said crossly. "And if there are guards – plural – at the school. I need a wand."

"Well you can't have mine!" James vowed.

"Or mine!" Remus agreed.

"Fine, if it will get us going…" Lily said reluctantly holding out her wand. "Here take mine, but _be careful!"_ Why was it she felt as if he had just handed over the keys to the family car to an overeager teenage driver? As upset as she was, she could still see the humour in the situation, but she doubted if Sirius would appreciate the analogy.

Sirius took the wand and caressed it reverently. Looking at Lily with eyes shining, her act rendered him speechless for a change. He really hadn't expected anyone to hand over a wand to him. He was just pouting as usual, just too once again point out the inequity of his existence. However, for Lily to trust him like that… he was awed.

"I will! I will do you proud, you won't regret it!" Sirius vowed as Remus grabbed his arm.

After Remus and Sirius disapparated, James got dressed and the he and Lily headed out for the school. When they arrived, they slipped unnoticed past the late night security guards. A relatively easy thing to do as the guards was snoring heavily on a bench in the hallway (by the way that their arms looped around each other in a hug, it was obvious that they had been posed). Remus and Sirius had already checked out the playground, the classrooms, and the cafeteria and finding no sign of their godson and goddaughter, they opened the office. Remus felt a bit uneasy about that move as Sirius was having a ball making a shambles of the filing system. Quite literally, he was rolling all the paper into a large ball.

"What _are_ you two doing?" Lily hissed at them making them freeze in place.

"But you said it was okay to break in." Sirius said looking like a kid caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

"Yes, but I didn't say to trash the place when you did. Now, pick those back up." she ordered huffily, daintily kicking the ball out of her way and then picking her way over the piles of papers to Ms. Smythe's desk which was decorated with chatchies, a candy disk full of sherbet lemons, and enough Easter decorations to even make Katie jealous, to start flipping through her rolodex.

James snorted at her self-righteousness and whispered to his cohorts behind her back, "Don't worry about it guys, you should have seen this place when Lily got done with it last time - this doesn't even begin to compare."

"Ah, here we are…" Lily said very relieved that she was finally doing something to find Harry. "Nathraichean, Jeffy-Poo… and the 'oo' in Poo are two big red hearts… oh my… with an arrow though them…" she said with raised eyebrows.

Sirius laughed snatching the card from her to read it. "From Harry's description of him, I'd lay odds that this Mr. Nathraichean wouldn't appreciate that very much."

"I don't know about Jeffy-Poo," Remus said. "But if I knew she had a card on me like that one, it'd sure scare the bejeebers out of me."

"Now, now, I keep telling you - Virgie is really very sweet…" Lily started.

"Did you forget? I spent a month dodging her too." Remus said raising his eyebrows.

"Maybe this Jeffy-Poo is a better catch." Sirius ribbed his friend.

"Maybe Jeffy-Poo just isn't as good at hiding as I was." Remus returned.

"Remus?"

"Yes Lily?"

"As entertaining as it may be to make fun of Harry's teacher, is it helping us in any way to find Harry?" Lily asked exasperated as she snatched the card back from Sirius.

"Uh…no. Sorry, Lily. So what does Virgie the desperate have down as his address?"

"Be kind, maybe she is a _little_ desperate, but it doesn't mean that she isn't a very nice person… that's a little strange…" Lily said frowning still reading the card.

"Heh-heh that was a good one Lily!" Sirius laughed.

"No, I meant it's strange about Jeffy-Poo's… I mean Mr. Nathraichean's address…"

"What's so strange?" James asked coming to read over her shoulder. "Hey! That _is _strange, that's our address. What's going on?"

"Virgie must have gotten it mixed up. I mean the last two substitute teachers, Remus and I, have the same address… she probably just reused the card and forgot to change the address."

"Oh wait! I think I found something," Remus called out. He had been picking up the file folders and came across one that Virgie had covered with hearts drawn with a hot pink highlighter and outlined liberally with red glitter. "Guess whose personnel file this one is?" he said with a grin.

"Jeffy-Poo's!" Sirius called out.

"None other… it doesn't list a phone number on C.V. or we could just call him, but it says that he lives on a street called Spinner's End. Where's that?"

"Isn't that near to where you grew up?" James asked Lily.

"Yes it is. That's where Sev used to live."

"I wonder if he still does." James speculated.

"Oh, I doubt it." Sirius chimed in. "Remus has been telling me what a great Potion's Master he turned out to be. Probably has a palatial estate on a secluded island in the Mediterranean by now. It's the nerdy ones that always make out the best in the end."

"But someone there might know where he's moved to," Remus said hopefully. "I have to track him down. That last batch of Wolfsbane was quite a doozy even though I only took half of it. I really don't want to repeat the experience, but if I don't get a fresh supply of soon… well let's just say we may have to reinforce that hatch door."

"Why's that Moony?" Sirius asked with a totally innocent look on his face.

"Because you have enough blackmail material already, and I don't intend to give you anymore." Remus replied showing him the card in the file with the correct address on it.

"Isn't that quite far from here? It's not even in this town. How could Harry have gotten there?" Sirius asked scratching his head and passing the card on to James. "He couldn't have borrowed your broom - Dudley broke that."

"How did Harry get to London?" James questioned back. Harry had already proved that a little matter of distance wouldn't stop him when he was on a mission to save someone.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that."

"Come on – there will be plenty of time for self recriminations later, for now you better change into Padfoot, and the rest of us will just have to disguise our looks the best we can, we have a bus to catch."

"But James - what are we going to do when we get there? And how are we going to explain ourselves?" Remus asked sensibly. "We're going to need a plan. After all, he's probably going to wonder how we even know where he lives."

"I just don't know Remus, and does it really matter?"

James was unnecessarily short with his cautious friend for suggesting a further delay. He had really hoped that he would have found the kids on their way to the school, which was another reason he wanted to walk there, to take the long way around via the play park. However, none of the repeated 'point me' spells he cast located anything, other than Harry's missing door key, which he found in the gutter outside their building. He was just glad that Lily had been too preoccupied to see him pick it up and pocket it, because he knew it would panic her, since finding it had panicked himself.

Up until that point it seemed just a simple matter of a young boy running away because he was upset, and he held on to the hope that they would find them both safe at the play park. Nevertheless, he knew there was no way that Harry would have parted with his key without a struggle. He had impressed upon Harry how important it was never to lose the key, as it would keep him safe, and would keep his family safe. Harry wouldn't have jeopardized that. Now that Harry and the key were separated, he had no method of tracking him. In the back of his mind, he had to admit that his children being in the hands of Death Eaters, was now a real possibility.

"Sorry..." James apologized when he saw a trace of hurt in Remus' grey eyes. "But I just don't know. I'm sure we'll think of something by the time we get there."

"It's really quite simple," Lily said confidently as she folded the teacher's résumé to study on the bus ride and pocketed it along with the address card, before shoving the empty file folder back in the cabinet. "When we get there, we'll just knock on the door."

James just raised his eyebrows at her as she sashayed out the door to lead the way. His wife - forever the optimist.

'…_knock knock…'_

"GO AWAY!" Severus Snape yelled out when he heard someone knocking persistently at his door.

He had been up all night trying to brew some new potions but ended up stewing over the infuriating boy-who-lived-to-plague-his-every-waking-thought instead, and as a result had ruined several delicate brews, which just made his mood all the fouler and his migraine worse, the blame for which he placed squarely on Potter's messy head. If only he were here, he would make him scrub out all the blackened cauldrons as punishment!

"Blasted it all! What's that table doing there, that's not where I put it! Bloody bothersome people! Why are they knocking on my door? Don't they know its Saturday morning? It's the weekend for Merlin's sake! Why doesn't everyone just leave me alone?" he growled, hopping on one foot as he rubbed his bruised shin. Only the unwelcome visitor didn't go away. He or she just knocked louder and more persistently, adding to the excruciating pain in his temples. It was probably Albus, by now he must have gotten his owl informing him of his resignation from the 'research project'. He was probably here to try and shame him back into guard duty again. Well it wouldn't work! He had had enough of that spoiled ungrateful brat.

"I. SAID. GO. A. WAY." Severus yanked the door open and stopped dead when there was no one there. Swearing about inconsiderate pranksters, he was about the slam the door closed again, when he heard a baby start to fuss. Glancing down, he was shocked to see the last person on earth that he expected to show up at his door - the spoiled ungrateful brat himself. Harry Potter was looking up at him with relieved green eyes as if he had spotted a life preserver on a stormy sea. Severus' eyes narrowed and he glared at the dripping wet lost waif kneeling on his step. All that that was missing from the pitiful scene was the blizzard and heart-rending note pinned to his t-shirt, asking someone to take pity and adopt him. Well too late. He had made his offer, and it had been summarily rejected. He wasn't a man to ask twice.

"You!" Severus' temper flared. How dare the old man! Bringing the child here and leaving him on his doorstep, looking like something the cat drug in, all to appeal to his sense of duty. The Headmaster had already pulled that prank nine years ago on the Dursleys. Now it was getting a little stale, not to mention that it was a low manipulative blow. Shame on him!

Harry had crouched down to set the sodden book bag on the step so that he could wrap his sister a little better, but now found himself cowering at his wrathful teacher's feet.

"What are you doing here Mister..._'Krueger'_?" Severus sneered.

"Um… you invited me?" Harry replied bravely, all the while his hope sinking into his feet at the look on his teachers face… maybe this was a colossal mistake.

"Consider the invitation – _withdrawn_," he said slowly in a low even monotone. Yet he did not slam the door in the child face and put an end to it.

'_Why am I not slamming the door in his face? I am quite certain my brain sent a signal to my hand to do that very thing. Why isn't my hand responding in an adequate manner? Blast it all! He hasn't left and now I am forced to deal with it!'_

"You are wet. Do you know that you are wet? And where are your keepers - your oh so precious... _'Kruegers'_? Do they know that you are missing? For that matter, _how_ did you get here? Who brought you?" Severus started to grill him suspiciously.

"Er… Ruby brought me?" Confused by the rapid fire questions, Harry skipped right to the last one he heard, and then answered more in the form of a question than a statement of fact, as he wasn't really sure himself exactly how it had happened.

"Ruby?" The unexpected name threw him for a minute. "Who is this 'Ruby' and where is she now? You should tell her to take you away again," he demanded.

Harry just pointed to the red bicycle, which had fallen over and was now lying on its side on his patch of grass.

Hrumph! He recognized that contraption. Two years ago last Christmas Eve he had seen Albus riding around the halls of Hogwarts on it, ringing the blasted bell, and scaring all the Suits of Armour, until they were running down the halls fleeing in terror, causing an unholy racket. Ha! Now he had proof positive that Albus Dumbledore was at the bottom of this latest ploy, and just let him try to deny it!

"I'm sorry to bother you Mr. Nathraichean, really I am… but you're the only one who can help me." Harry sputtered out while Severus just stood there staring at him with dark unfathomable eyes. "May we come in? Please? It's a matter of life and death!"

"We?" Severus croaked out in surprise, and glanced around again, but this time for Albus Dumbledore. He saw no danger in the vicinity, and he didn't spy the Headmaster lurking anywhere nearby either, but that didn't mean anything because he could be disillusioned, he thought suspiciously.

"What is this matter of importance, and who is this 'we' to whom you are referring?"

"The egg, and my sister and me," Harry clarified. He picked up a squirmy bundle from his front step with a tuft of fine auburn hair sticking out and cuddled it close.

"You have a sister?"

Severus repeated the phrase as if the words didn't make sense, and in his reality – they didn't, as there was no possible way for Harry Potter to have a sister. However... muggles had adopted him, so perhaps that is how he came by it?

"Um… yeah. Didn't I ever mention that?" he asked innocently, shifting from foot to foot trying to get warm. He did wish Mr. Nathraichean would invite them in. He was really getting cold. "…_ahhhh – AHCHOO!"_

"No Mister…_'Krueger'_, you did not mention it. And is that thing…" he asked pointed to the bundle Harry was holding and refusing to believe what he was seeing, "…ill as well?"

"No … _ahhhh ... AHCHOO! _... I think she's fine."

"Then why is it behaving badly?"

"'It' is a 'she', her name is Holly, and she's not behaving badly - she's just hungry." Harry defended his sister. "But if I don't get her into some place warm soon, she will be ill. Please Sir… may we come in? We really need your help," he pleaded.

Harry could see they hadn't made the best impression on his teacher, but still - they were here now, and they needed his aid. Only his teacher didn't appear to be willing to give them any - that was something he hadn't considered. He had been so sure that if he could just find him that he would help them out. After all, just yesterday, Mr. Nathraichean had invited him to live with him, and that was an even bigger thing.

Severus cold-heartedly actually considered the feasibility and potential ramifications of denying the boy's request, and leaving the shivering children on his doorstep to fend for themselves. After all, if that method of dealing with homeless waifs was good enough for the Headmaster, it should be good enough for him. Moreover, if he thought about it, what could Dumbledore say against him if he followed his sterling example? But then he abruptly turned his back on the door and disappeared into the dingy depths of the house, leaving Harry standing there at the open door wondering if that meant they could come in, or not.

A whimper from Holly made up his mind for him and he grabbed his book bag by the strap and hurried into the house after his teacher, leaving the door ajar behind him in case his teacher threw him out, and he had to make a quick getaway.

"Er… Mr. Nathraichean? We're coming in…where did you go?"

Harry stopped just inside the door. He had only been a fraction of a second behind Mr. Nathraichean, but the man had already vanished. Unsure what to do, Harry stood just inside the door and looked around as much as he could.

The house had a very uninviting neglected feel. It was obvious that his teacher seldom cleaned it, dust covered almost every surface, and only a weak stream of light had been able to find its way in past the dirty panes of glass in the long thin windows.

Running one finger along a tabletop in the foyer, it left a trail behind. Harry idly wondered if it turned out, that his teacher couldn't save the egg, if he could still take him up on his offer to stay with him. He obviously needed someone to clean. It would take him a while, but he thought he could get it looking liveable again, and it would be a whole lot better than going back to the Dursleys. Maybe the Kruegers wouldn't care where he went, as long as he was out of their house.

From the tiny foyer, he could see into the living room where one stiff wing back chair and a small couch were set in front of a grate, which looked as if it hadn't seen a cheery fire in it for decades. The only bright cheerful spot in the entire room was a vase of slightly rumpled construction paper Easter lilies gracing the mantel in its mended vase. On a whim, Severus had rescued them from the rubbish when he had gone back to clean out his desk after everyone had left.

Seeing them gave Harry hope that that perhaps his cause wasn't entirely lost, and gave him courage enough to venture farther out of the foyer and deeper into the house. The walls of the living room were lined with heavy wooden shelves, stuffed with books. On the floor, and on small tables poked randomly here and there, were overflow stacks of even more books. As he reached out to pick up one, with a dark red leather cover and exotic looking symbols on its spine, a loud noise directly behind him startled him.

'_BANG!' _Harry spun around to see that his teacher had angrily thrown a heavy volume to get his attention and it had fallen open on the floor behind him.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT BOOK! What do you think you're doing you foolish boy? Haven't you even one functioning brain cell left? I didn't give you permission to touch anything."

Severus had reappeared as abruptly as he had disappeared, and his heart had about stopped when he came back into the room to see Harry reaching for a book that had a tendency to bite the fingers off from any unwary person who try to open it without first politely requesting its permission. However, being true to his nature, he covered up his concern by making a derogatory remark instead.

"Never mind answering, we have already established that you don't. Take off those wet things and put this on." Severus ordered, tossing a long woollen robe to Harry.

It was far too big and a bit scratchy, but it was dry and warm and it felt good to be out of his cold wet clothes. His teacher had also brought a soft knitted afghan to wrap Holly in, and a tea towel for a clean nappie. While Harry was seeing to his sister, Severus furtively cast a warming spell over them both, and then thrust a vial of pepper-up potion into Harry's hand and made him drink it. He contemplated the wisdom of giving a vial to the baby as well, unsure of the ratio for someone that young. He settled on three drops in some pumpkin juice put in a bag with a pinprick hole in the corner to use as a bottle.

Harry really wanted to get on with the business of saving the egg, which was the purpose of his visit, but he had to agree – taking care of his sister came first, and it was very nice of his teacher to see to it that she didn't catch cold, especially as they didn't seem particularly welcome. He bit his tongue and tried to be patient as he fed her. Only the more time that passed, the more he worried if the egg was still viable.

He had quickly checked on it when he was waiting on the step and it had several more cracks in it. The book on hatching eggs said it could take anywhere from just a couple of hours to an entire day – it depended on the determination of the hatchling, but it had already been hours and hours since he noticed the first crack trying to separate and who knows how long it had been there before he had seen it.

After Harry changed into the dry clothes and saw to his sister's welfare, his teacher disappeared again. As Harry didn't see a way out of the room except for the door he came in, he dusted off the small couch and pulled Holly onto his lap, along with the book his teacher had thrown at him earlier. He figured if Mr. Nathraichean had thrown it on the floor like that, it must be okay to touch, and it would help keep Holly quiet. While he waited for his teacher to return, Harry entertained her by showing her all the pictures and reading some their descriptions.

Holly seemed particularly taken with a picture of a lovely lady who looked like a princess. She was dressed all in white, and posed in front of a grand snow-covered castle. It looked like gingerbread covered with sparkling frosting. When Holly tried to stuff the corner of the page into her mouth to chew on, the picture gently told her that she really wasn't very good to eat. The caption said the lady was a powerful but kind witch named Lady Hedwig who loved and protected children. Every time his sister waved her baby fists at the picture and cooed, Lady Hedwig would smile and wave back much to both Holly's and Harry's delight. Lady Hedwig didn't even scold when Holly drooled on her picture. She just wrung out her skirt and sang her a little lullaby.

Severus had left to put a stasis spell on what was left of the potions brewing in his basement lab, before the untoward interruption destroyed them. Stopping in the kitchen on his way back, he poured himself a large mug of thick black coffee.

When he returned to the living room, he sat down in the wing back chair, took a long steadying sip, and stared at the two small children who were methodically destroying his original first edition of _A History of Magic_ autographed by Bathilda Bagshot herself.

Now that they were no longer shivering and sniffling, Severus finally had time to clear his mind and to sit back and think about the implications of having two identical sets of emerald green eyes sitting across the room from him, watching him, watch them back. The photo he had found on the playground was of Lily, the prat she had foolishly married, and a baby. He had just assumed the baby in it was Harry.

What if … what if the photo wasn't as old as he had thought? What if the baby in it, was the one now ensconced on Potter's lap? That would mean the picture was a recent one… and that would mean… hm… no… that couldn't be… even to think that way was insane! There must be another explanation.

"That baby has red hair. You don't," he observed flatly.

"Er… no… I mean yes… but she used to have black hair like mine. But it… uh… changed one day… all of a sudden." Harry still had the awful taste of the medicine that his teacher made him drink earlier in his mouth, and wished that he had brought him something hot to drink too. That would have been the polite thing to do.

"Why?"

Harry shrugged, Mrs. Krueger had explained it to him but he didn't really understand, and certainly not enough to explain it to someone else. She had just changed, that was all. He had grown out his hair overnight himself, when his Aunt Petunia had once cut it all off but his fringe, and nobody made a big deal about it… besides Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon that is, so it didn't seem to be something that couldn't happen. Besides, why did any of the freaky things that happened around him, happen? They just did.

Severus frowned.

"That baby's hair sticks up. Your hair sticks up," he compared unfavourably.

What was this fascination Mr. Nathraichean had with hair? His teacher's wasn't so great either, it was kind of stringy and greasy, but at least he was polite enough not to mention it, Harry thought irritably as he spit on his hands and then tried to pat down his and Holly's pokey-out hair to make them more presentable for his teacher.

Severus' frown only deepened.

"That baby has green eyes. You have green eyes."

Well there just wasn't anything Harry could do about that - short of poking a finger in his eyes and making them go red. However, he didn't particularly want to resort to that method. "Er… Mr. Nathraichean? That isn't why we came. We need your help."

"Ah yes the 'matter of life and death', did your cousin stick his tongue out at you again?" he asked derisively.

Harry decided to ignore the jibe, as he felt he deserved the ridicule, and instead went right to pleading his case.

"Please Sir, it's not for me! Really it isn't - 'cause I know I'm not someone you want to help anymore 'cause I don't deserve it, but if you could anyway… well I guess it is kind of for me just a little… but if -"

"Quit. Babbling. Now." Severus ordered, narrowing his eyes at the irritating child.

"But please Sir! Really and truly you're the only one who can help, you see they didn't believe me, so I had to run away, and then Holly wanted to come too, and we rode and we rode…"

"I. SAID. QUIT. BABBLING! DO NOT make me repeat myself Mister…_'Krueger'_. This is my house, and I do not tolerate babbling within its walls."

"Sorry Sir." Harry replied quietly and tried not to fidget with impatience as he suspected that fidgeting wasn't tolerated either. Even Holly seemed to understand that and ceased her squirming. He was beginning to think that this had been a very bad idea indeed.

"That is better. Now you may restate your request… ah ah!" he said holding up his hand to stem another tide of nonsensical prattle. "But only if you can do so in a clear and concise manner."

Harry took a deep steadying breath. "Please Sir - please help my egg hatch before she dies. She's hatching! Or at least she's trying to," he said fishing it out of his bag and thrusting it at his teacher. "I remember what you said about her not being able to get through the shell on her own. You were going to do something to it on Friday, to help it if it started this weekend, when…." Harry trailed off and flushed red with embarrassment at painful the memory. No wonder his teacher was being so nasty to him. He really didn't deserve any better after being so rude like that. He was just a worthless freak and he had no business asking anyone for anything.

"Oh forget it…" he finished with a sniff, "…we shouldn't have come."

"And yet you have – and at great length." Severus sighed and sipped on his cup of coffee. Finding it stone cold, he put it down and took the egg from Harry. Carrying it over to his desk by the window, where there was slightly better light streaming in weakly through a grimy window, he carefully inspected it. Harry set Holly down on the rug, so she wouldn't fall off the couch, and followed him.

The hatchling had indeed been trying to break free of its shell and the entire surface was now spider webbed with cracks. Where three of the largest cracks intersected, a triangular piece had broken out, and the tip of one very oddly purple coloured leathery wing poked out. The wing was still and cold, and there was no movement or sound coming from inside the egg. If it were still alive at all, it was just barely.

"I'm sorry to say this Mister…_'Krueger'_, but you are too late. Whatever it was you were trying to hatch is not going to survive."

"NO!" Harry yelled at him. "I've come so far! You have to at least _try!_"

"This is my home Mister…_'Krueger'_, and contrary to your opinion, I do not _'have'_ to do anything in it, that I do not wish to do."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please help! Please! Please! Please!" Harry begged hysterically pulling on his sleeve. Just as his plea's reached a hysterical pitch, his dad and godfathers burst through the door with their wands drawn, James in the lead.

James looked from his son to Snape, to the hatching purple egg Snape held in his hands, and immediately knew what was posing the real danger to his son.

"HARRY! GET AWAY FROM THAT EGG!"

Severus dropped the egg on the desk, shoved Harry protectively behind him, turned on his heel, and instinctively swung his wand up to a duelling stance in one fluid motion. As he found image of James Bloody Potter staring down the shaft of a wand directly at him, he had to wonder what the fates had against him. His worst nightmare was coming true! Worse yet, the werewolf and mutt were flanking him on either side.

Maybe this whole happening was just some sort of toxic fume inspired hallucinogenic episode. Yes, that was it. He was still in his potions lab trapped in a bizarre dream.

He bit the inside of his lip and tasted blood. Blast it! Not a dream. _'Merlin! If someone had to come back from the dead – why did it have to be the Marauders? One of them would have been bad enough… but all three? Where was the justice in that?'_

Harry peeked out fearfully from behind his teacher. Mr. Krueger seemed really really upset! So did Uncle Siri and Uncle Remmy. For that matter, so did Mr. Nathraichean. You could feel the animosity crackling in the air between them.

"Well… this is a might awkward." James was the first to break the silence.

"Maybe Snivellus just needs a hug," Sirius suggested.

"Padfoot!" Remus admonished him sternly.

"What? What'd I say?" Sirius asked truly clueless to what Remus thought he'd done wrong. The other two marauders glared at him. "Well... it worked for me. You'd think I suggested blowing him up or something," he muttered under his breath.

"I must make a note to be more careful about leaving the door unlatched. You never know what kind of riff-raff might blow in from the gutter." Severus replied in a cool calm voice, deliberately ignoring the olive branch James had offered.

James immediately bristled. Fine! If the sanctimonious git wanted to play it that way - so would he.

"How delightful to see you too Snape." James replied just as coolly and calmly. "Harry, get over here now. I want you as far away from that egg as possible."

"Delightful was not quite the adjective I had in mind. Mister…_'Krueger'_, stay right where you are."

"No? How about 'pleasant' then? Harry – I said, come here."

"I was leaning more towards an antonym than a synonym," Severus said derisively. "If you know what is good for you Mister…_'Krueger'_ - you will not move a muscle."

"So was I. Harry, do as your told. That egg is not safe." James matched him tone for tone. "But I promised Lily that…"

"Lily?" Severus sucked in his breath and gripped his wand even tighter. Despite the mounting evidence to the contrary, he hadn't really believed that Lily being alive was even a remote possibility. Not even Harry appearing on his doorstep with a baby sister, who could have been none other than Lily's child, had convinced him of that. No! This was wrong! Lily and the Marauders were all dead! He knew it. He knew it just as sure as he knew that the sun came up in the east and set in the west, and that eventually Albus would lose all his teeth to tooth decay because of his addiction to sweets.

Albus had warned him not to see with his eyes, but encouraged him to see with his heart instead. It was hard to put faith in that advice when in his experience the heart lied more often. It was as though all reason had flown out the window, and he no longer knew what to trust. His eyes told him that the Marauders were standing before him, but his heart knew this could not be true. People cannot come back from the dead. That is the one irrefutable fact of life. Not even magic can bend that rule. Therefore, the men before him had to be Death Eaters wanting to kill the boy-who-lived. They must have come in disguise so they could avoid having any possible recriminations for the deed placed at their feet. Moreover, there was only one Death Eater he could think of who would play this sort of cruel prank - knowing full well how much it would torture him.

"Lily's dead. For that matter, you soon will be too - _**Malfoy!**_ '_Sectumsempra'!_" Severus shouted the curse and pushed Harry further out of danger as the Marauders sent a trio of curses back at him out of pure reflex.

"_HOLLY - NO!" _Harry dove to cover his sister who had been safely lying on the rug chewing on her toes, but who now chose this moment to show everyone how good she was getting at rolling over all by herself, by doing it several times until she was right in the centre of the floor. Being the little diva that she was - there was nothing like a large audience for her big debut!

"coo! …ah…vi! … gurgle gurgle!" Holly giggled and waved her pudgy little arms, putting on her cutest face as she turned the pretty lights from the wands into an even prettier flock of fluffy flying feathered balls. All of which, flew once around the room, and then swooped out the open front door to freedom. Why did all her pretty birdies fly away? Holly pouted and started to bawl in her brother's arms. She just wanted something to play with, and why was no one telling her how wonderful she was?

"whaaaaaAAAAA**AAAAAA**!"

Startled, the Marauders realized how easily they could have hurt the children that they had come here to save, and all because of a stupid rivalry that they really didn't care that much about anymore. Therefore, even though they were all now thoroughly convinced that Snape was not in a forgiving mood towards them, they lowered their wands. While Severus on the other hand was even more convinced that the Marauders were Death Eaters with murder on their minds, so he did just the opposite. He had made a vow to protect Lily's boy, and he would do so, even if it mean blowing his cover as a spy.

As Severus Snape was the only one in the room with the idea in his head that the children were still in danger, he was also the first to recover and to react. Taking advantage of the men's distraction, he fired off several spells in rapid succession.

"'_Accio Liberes!__Protego Horribilis! Expelliarmus!'__" _The children's safety being the top priority he first summoned Harry and Holly out of the middle of the floor and under the desk, then he placed a shielding charm over it against dark magic, lastly he relieved the three intruders of their wands while they were still in shock at seeing the kids pulled away from them.

"Ooo… someone's a little touchy - someone's a little touchy," Sirius singsonged. "Didn't get your morning fix of that molten lava you used to like to drink?"

"Get out of my house! You will get the boy-who-lived only over my dead body." As Severus put himself protectively between the intruders and the children, he told Harry sternly to 'stay put while he dealt with the Death Eaters'.

Harry's eyes got big, and he hugged Holly to him while he looked around frantically from the safety of the kneehole. _'Death Eaters! Here? Where? And where's mummy? Is she safe?'_

"Who? Us? Death Eaters? Really?" Sirius tried to smother what sounded like a bark, and ending up bursting out laughing. "Come off it Snivellus – you know us, do you think we would ever take the dark mark? On purpose that is? We'd never do that... unless maybe we lost a bet, or were drunk out of our skulls, no make that lost a bet _while _we were drunk out of our skulls, not 'or'. It would definitely take both at the same time. Other than that, I don't think so. What do you think Moony?"

"That's true Padfoot I don't see it happening either. Besides black not being my colour … _(ahem)_…tattoos and pain really isn't my thing." Remus added, seeing that Sirius was trying his best to diffuse the situation by lightening the mood with a little levity.

"Then what about that butterfly on your bu…?" James started in, adding his bit for the comedy act, though he could see out of the corner of his eye that Snape's stone cold expression didn't even twitch. Why Lily ever picked this humourless unyielding git for a best friend was beyond him.

"Dare." Remus explained with a blush, cutting him off neatly.

"Oh - dare!" Sirius counted on his fingers while rolling his eyes, "I didn't think of that one, okay… so bet, drunk, or dare… and at least two out of three. Other than that? Nope, definitely not us Snivvy. You must have confused us with some other snappy dressers."

"Snappy?" Remus asked raising an eyebrow at him and looking him up and down. The condition of Sirius' clothes was no better than that of his own, being both worn and patched. In fact, they _were_ his own!

"Well true, Death Eater uniforms leave something to be desired style-wise, but you have to admit they're made out of only the highest quality materials."

"Sometimes you can be a real snob Padfoot." Remus kidded him.

"What can I say? I was raised to be a connoisseur of the finer things." Sirius shrugged picking invisible lint off his threadbare sleeve.

"**SILENCE! **What do you take me for - a fool?" Severus sneered, not taking his wand off from the intruders for a second. "The Marauders are all dead and buried. Therefore you are not who you appear to be. Reveal your true selves! '_Finite Incantatem'!"_ As Severus cast the spell, he also cast away the stray hope that it wouldn't actually work. He was so convinced that it would, that it rather took him aback when it didn't. The same three annoying faces continued to grin at him.

"'_**Finite Incantatem**_'_**!"**_Severus shouted again and again, getting more and more furious as the grins just got bigger each time he did it.

"Hey Moony… what is it you call a person who keeps doing the same thing, the same way, but keeps expecting the results to be different anyway?"

"I don't know Padfoot, what do you call them?"

"Heh-heh! A Slytherin." Sirius smirked.

"I am _**not**_amused, and as I am the one with the wand, it might behoove you to not mock me," Snape said dryly, swirling the tip of his wand at him and smirking back. "If you are who you are trying to make me believe you are, then you will be able to tell me something that no one but you and I would know. If you do not – then prepare to die… in a _**most**_unpleasant way."

Harry gasped and covered up Holly's eyes. What had he done! If he hadn't come here, Mr. Krueger and his uncles wouldn't have followed him. Now his teacher was going to hurt Uncle Siri and it was entirely his fault! He just knew they wouldn't get along!

James and Sirius exchanged meaningful glances. There was only one thing they could think of that would totally convince Snape of their identity… "The 'Wrakspurdt' Incident," they said in unison.

"Elucidate," Severus demanded.

While Sirius covered up Remus' ears, James explained in a loud conspiratorial whisper, "Wrakspurdt stands for **W**hen-**R**emus-**A**lmost-**K**illed-**S**nivellus-er-you-because-**P**adfoot-**U**sed-a-**R**eally-**D**irty-**T**rick."

"Common knowledge," Severus said slowly, his eyes narrowing dangerously, and his hand tightening on the shaft of his wand.

"But not the fact that Padfoot and I didn't graduate because of it. Only you, the two of us, Remus and the Headmaster knew that. Oh… and Lily, I told her too, just recently."

"**LIAR! LILY HAS BEEN DEAD FOR EIGHT YEARS, AND I NEVER RECEIVED JUSTICE FOR THAT PRANK. IF YOU WERE INDEED POTTER THAN YOU WOULD KNOW THAT!"** Severus yelled enraged. **"I WARNED YOU IMPOSTER! PREPARE TO DIE! … '**_**AVADA KEDAVRA'!**__**"**_

"_**Noooooo!" **_

When Harry heard the curse from his nightmares shouted at his beloved family, he launched himself out from under the desk full force at his teacher's legs, knocking him off balance enough that the flash of green light hit harmlessly wide of its mark.

Severus caught Harry by the scruff of his neck, and held him at arm's length with one hand, while keeping the men at wand point with the other.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Harry yelled, ineffectually swinging his fists.

Experience had taught Severus well, and he stayed out of reach of his punches. Only the stupid child was making it difficult for him to get a better aim at the Potter imposter. Didn't he realize he was trying to save him? Stuffing Harry under the desk once more, this time added a 'stick-um' charm to make sure he stayed behind the shield.

"**Sev! Stop! Please!" **

Lily gasped at the scene as she crossed the threshold. When the Night Bus had left them at the end of the long narrow twisty cobblestone lane, Padfoot in his animagus form, had galloped on ahead and finding a bicycle in the yard with Harry's name on it and hearing screams from the house, had brought the other men running to the rescue, leaving Lily to follow. She had hurried as fast as she could on the rough uneven surface and had arrived just in time to see her best friend try to kill her husband.

"Please Sev… don't hurt James... please… for me?" Lily asked softly, pleading with him with those eyes…

"Lily?" Severus blinked. Those eyes… they were burned into his memory there was no mistaking them. They were looking at him now with the same mixture of fear and hope as they had almost a decade earlier by the lake. Severus blinked again, longer this time. Those eyes… he saw it now, he had been wrong. How could he have missed it? Harry's eyes weren't exactly the same shade of green after all. They were close, but nothing could quite match Lily's captivating hue, that of a clear deep emerald, lit with an inner radiance that made them glow like captured stars. Severus blinked again. This time when he reopened them, those eyes were less than a meter in front of him. He sucked in his breath and held it.

"Sev… please? Put down your wand. Please?" she begged with her eyes locked on his.

"No." The word came unbidden to his lips. He couldn't stop it.

"Sev? Don't you know me? I'm Lily. I'm here." Lily reached out and gently pushed down his frozen arm, all the while never breaking eye contact with him. Lightly taking their wands back out of his other hand, and tucking her own in her waistband, she held the other two behind her while motioning for James to take them and leave. She knew without reservation that Severus would never hurt her or her children. She knew James and Remus wouldn't hurt Sev for her sake, not if they could help it. However, she honestly couldn't be that sure of what Sirius would do. He was too unpredictable.

James signalled Remus and they clapped their hands over Sirius' protesting mouth while they dragged him backwards towards the foyer. James trusted Lily's instincts implicitly. He also knew that if they stayed within Snape's sight it would immediately destroy any progress she might be able to make.

As much as James hated to admit it, this was a moment for Lily and Severus alone. He only wished he could get the kids out of the house too, but Snape was protecting them as fiercely as a mother bear would protect her cubs. In a way, he was grateful and more than a little impressed. Snape willingly took on single handed what he honestly believed to be three armed Death Eaters, to keep Harry and Holly safe - children that weren't even his responsibility. There wasn't many who would have done the same in his place. Lily was right - Severus would have made an honourable Gryffindor.

"Sev… what happened to you?"

Now that Lily was face to face with Severus again, she didn't know what to say. For the past two years, he had been the one constant thread through all her broken memories, her lifeline to her past life. She had fanaticized meeting him again, how it would happen, where they would be, what she would be wearing, what she would say, what he would say, how they would hug as if time had stood still. In all the different scenes that had run through her mind, he was always smiling and happy to see her. In her versions, they would slip back into their friendship as easily as they might slip on their favourite robes. Never was he this cold and stony.

"What happened to me? WHAT HAPPENED TO_**ME**_?" he asked in righteous indignation drawing himself to his full height causing his robes to billow imperiously around him.

"You let me think for _**EIGHT AND A HALF YEARS**_ that I killed you? You let me live through _**ONE HUNDRED AND TWO MONTHS **_of thinking that it was _**MY FAULT**_? _**THREE THOUSAND, EIGHTY EIGHT DAYS **_of wanting to kill myself every morning - rather than face another day of doing penance for a sin for which I could _never _atone? _**SEVENTY FOUR THOUSAND, SEVENTY-ONE AND A QUARTER HOURS**_ of drowning in dreamless sleep potion. In the vain attempt to be able to sleep for one single night, without the image of your burned body haunting my dreams? _**FOUR MILLION, FOUR HUNDRED FORTY FOUR THOUSAND, TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SIX MINUTES **_of utter hell! While all this time, you were off somewhere with the hyena pack - laughing it up at my expense? And you have the nerve to ask what's _'wrong' _with me?"

From the foyer, all three Marauders knew exactly what he meant. Even though none of them could do math that quickly in their heads, they could all sympathize completely with his reaction. Each of them in their own way had gone through exactly the same feelings guilt and remorse over that night, with copious amounts of would-of's, should-of's, and could-of's peppering their thoughts.

The difference being that they knew the only truly innocent party in all of it was Lily. All she had done was open her heart to everyone she met, and never intentionally hurt anyone. As his friends moved forward to point that discrepancy out to Snape, James pulled them back and completely out of the house to the front stoop with a plea to 'let Lily handle it'.

"It wasn't like that Sev. You know I would never do that to you, I love you too much. The minute that I remembered… truly remembered… I tried to find you. James tried too, he did. Remus helped and even Sirius, if you can believe it. But we couldn't find you. No one knew where you were, just that you were on a sabbatical somewhere. I thought maybe in the autumn we might find you back at Hogwarts, and then I could explain what happened, but I never dreamed you were this close - that you were Harry's teacher."

At the mention of his name, Harry looked up from where he was still sheltering Holly in the protective bubble. He was truly confused. Was Mr. Nathraichean the 'Sev' that they had been talking about for months? He thought hard to make the connections… If Mr. Nathraichean was Mrs. Krueger's 'Sev', and 'Sev' was the same as Uncle Remus' 'Severus', and 'Severus' was the same as Uncle Siri's 'Snivellus', and 'Snivellus' was the same as Mr. Krueger's 'Snape', and 'Snape' was the one he charged all the… "OH NO!"

Lily reached out a hand to touch Severus' face, only to feel him flinch back, but since he didn't totally pull away, she took a deep breath and persisted. "Please Sev… I want you back in my life. I've missed you so much. Can't we put this behind us and start over?"

"Start…_over?_" The words sent a jolt of electricity through Severus' body, jump-starting his dead heart with the beginning of new hope. Did she mean -_ with him_?

"I asked you this once a long time ago by the lake, and I never got an answer. Will you answer me now Sev? Will you be a part of my life?" Lily pleaded with him. "I need you Sev… please?"

"When you say a 'part of your life' – exactly what part do you mean?"

"A part of my family of course… we could use another godfather on our side or someday the children might outnumber us," she answered with a playful smile. "Will you Sev? Will you be a part of my family?"

Severus felt like he was drowning in Lily's emerald green eyes. If it hadn't been dark that night at the lake, if he had seen into her eyes then, as he could now, maybe he would have answered her. Maybe things could have been different - but they weren't. He had made his choice and there was no going back. Now she had to make hers.

"Choose," he said coldly brushing her hand away.

"What?"

"I said choose. You want to start over? Then make a different choice."

"I-I can't Sev…"

"Then. Get. Out. Of. My. Home…" Severus seethed through his teeth, his back ramrod straight as he felt the accusing eyes of the Marauders' on him through the doorway, his own black obsidian eyes smouldering as he tacked in the death nail, "…._mudblood." _

Lily paled, her breath catching in her throat.

"And take your wretched spawn with you," he added angrily, releasing the shield.

The heartbreak evident in her eyes, Lily picked up Holly and clutched her to her breast so hard that the baby started to whimper, then grasping Harry's hand, Lily turned and without another word left, pulling Harry protesting along with her, out of Severus' house and out of his life.

Behind her, the door slammed, its sound echoing hollowly down Spinners End.

"But my egg! He has to save my egg! PLEEEEEAAAASSEEEEE! We haft to go back!"

"I'm sorry sweetie, it's too late… it's just… too late." Lily choked out with a sob as she rushed by James who was still standing shocked on the stoop with Sirius and Remus.

None of the men could believe their ears. After all that she said, Severus was still acting like a bloody git!

Sirius was the first to break out of the trance, and grabbing Remus' wand out of his hand he moved to blast Severus' door down, but James reached out and stopped him.

"No Sirius, give Remus back his wand. We interfered between them before. I won't do it again. It isn't right."

"But you heard what he said! He called her a mudblood! After everything - and he still called her a mudblood? He made her cry for Merlin's sake! He deserves it!"

"No he doesn't, and even if he did, it's not up to us. Not this way. Not now." James asserted, his hand pushing down Sirius' arm until the wand pointed at the ground, and Remus took it back.

"When then?" Sirius spat out, still angry.

"Maybe never."

"What! You mean you're _excusing_ him? He calls your wife a mudblood – _twice – _and you're going to let him get away with it?"

"Yes."

"But why?" Remus asked, just as confused as Sirius was.

"Because he didn't mean it… don't you see? He only said it because of us, because we were here listening and he knew it. If the only woman I had ever loved, had just broken my heart in front of my worst enemy, I might have reacted the same way."

"I don't get you James Potter. What do you mean – he didn't mean it? Snivellus is a vindictive, mean-spirited, greasy git, and he meant every word of it!" Sirius protested. "Let me at least hex him!" he pleaded trying to grab the wand back again.

"No." James said firmly. "Now go home. You too, Remus. Catch up to them and take the Night Bus. Make sure they get home safe. Okay?" James asked pulling out some galleons and thrusting them into Remus' hand. "And make sure he doesn't do anything stupid along the way," he added nodding sideways at Sirius. "Better change, you don't want to be seen." At Sirius' hesitation he added, "I'm trusting you with my family Padfoot - please do this for me."

Sirius looked at him darkly, plans already hatching in his brain for later revenge, but for now, he obeyed James' request and went loping down the walk on all fours after Lily and the kids.

"And what are you going to do?" Remus asked pocketing the coins.

"I'll get Harry's bike and apparate home. Don't worry, okay? I won't do anything stupid either. I promise…" James replied with a wry smile while thinking to himself, _'…at least not too stupid.'_

"Okay," Remus said doubtfully, but when he glanced back as he started down the pavement, he saw James moving to pick up the bicycle from where it was left laying discarded on its side on the token patch of dead grass. Relieved, and believing that James actually meant it when he said he would be leaving too and would be home before them, he turned and hurried after the rest of the family.

As soon as they were out of sight, James let the bike drop back to the ground. Maybe a little interfering wouldn't hurt too much. Putting away his wand, he took a deep breath and knocked determinedly on Severus' front door before he could change his mind.

"I said… _Go Away!"_ Severus barked finally pulling open the door after a full five minutes only to find James still there with his knuckles raw from the incessant pounding.

"What are you still doing here Potter? Come to curse me? A small '_Crucio'_ or two? Go ahead then, I won't stop you," he sneered before turning his back on a surprised James who was still standing in the doorway off balance, his hand poised to continue knocking.

"Well technically, you only told Lily to get out, not me. And you didn't say anything at all about going away, just 'out', and I was out, and now I'm back in." James pushed his glasses back up his sweaty nose and pointed out the small discrepancies in an effort to add a spark of humour to the tense situation. It fell flat, reminding him just how minute Snape's sense of humour was.

"Technically, it was implied." Sitting down in the old wingback chair in front of the cold empty hearth, Severus pulled out his wand and slowly placed it on the dusty table. Then with a show of indifference, he leaned back and held up his empty hands. "There now, I am unarmed, and we are an even match as you are clearly without any intelligence on your side," he said sarcastically.

"Shut it Sev!"

"And sadly without wit too," Severus said shaking his head. "So sorry, but I don't have anything else to dispose of to balance the scales further."

"I said shut it!"

"And why should I Potter? Perhaps you have forgotten already, but you do not own everything you see. I realize my humble abode is well below your '_extravagant_' standards…" Severus said cuttingly referring to the run down flat the Potter's were living in. "…but this is my home and I will do in it as I see fit."

"I just want you to listen for a minute."

"Again, I pose the query - why should I? Especially as it seems you have lost your bodyguards. Dubious as that description may be for that inept furry duo, unless of course one can actually be licked to death."

"IF YOU WOULD BE QUIET ONE BLOODY MINUTE, I'D TELL YOU!" James yelled in frustration. Snape was only one who could push all of his buttons, all at the same time.

"My, my, then, by all means do tell, I am all ears." Severus said drolly lowering his arms and crossing his legs primly. "But if you are here to kill me, I do wish you would get on with it and quit wasting my time. I am busy."

James took a deep breath, Gods he was infuriating! Maybe he should have let Sirius… no! He was right in stopping him, and this was the right thing to do now.

"I am not here to kill you Severus. I just want to say something, and then I'll leave and you won't ever have to put up with me again."

"Promises, promises…" Severus started needling him, and then broke off when he saw that James' normal annoying smug grin was gone.

"Yes I promise."

Silence hung in the air between the two rivals.

"She remembered you." James finally said softly.

"What?"

"Lily - she remembered you."

"I never supposed she would have totally forgotten me. You two probably have had many a good laugh at my expense over the last eight years." Severus said scornfully.

"Two."

"Only twice? Surely, you jest. I suppose it is pure conceit on my part, but I am sure I provided for more entertainment that, while you were both lounging on a beach somewhere, making me think that I had been instrumental in the death of my only fr…" Severus stopped cold. He did not intend to admit to Potter that Lily had been the only true friend he had ever had.

James heard it anyway, but he let it go. "No, you misunderstood. It hasn't been eight years, it's been only two… well almost two for Lily, a bit longer for me but not that much. And not really even two years for Lily, but more like three months if you start counting from the day she got back most of her memories…" he started to prattle, not sure how to phrase it now that he started. If he had learned nothing else the last few days, he'd learned the importance of getting the words right, and now when it counted he was doing a poor job of it again.

"Potter, I told your son, and now I will tell you. I do not permit babbling in my house. Now what in the blazes are you talking about?"

"When Vol-" James started haltingly, then cleared his throat and started again. "When Voldemort attacked that night, he didn't kill us…"

"Obviously."

"…he killed some friends of ours. Their bodies were mistaken for ours…"

"Obvious again."

"…both Lily and I had massive injuries, we almost died."

This time the quip died on Severus' lips as he finally started to listen.

"Sirius pulled us out of the wreckage of our cottage. He took us to a muggle Sanatorium in Germany, in the Ruhr Valley and left us there under the name Krueger, which is the German counterpart of 'Potter', to conceal our identities."

That sent Severus' mind whirling. No wonder the name Krueger grated on him so!

"We had both suffered head trauma and were in comas for years. It was four years until my body healed and I came out of it, it took me another year to get my strength back and teach my muscles to work again, and almost another year beyond that to regain my memories. But Lily was still in hers. I was beginning to lose hope she would ever recover, then two years ago, she finally woke up. When she did, I was so grateful, that I didn't even care that her first word was 'Sev'. She didn't remember me. But she remembered you."

Severus felt a little flutter in his heart at that, but then shifted uncomfortably as he remembered the irresistible pull he had felt about the same time to visit that very spot. What if he had gone…?

"Lily was a weak as a newborn kitten when she first woke up, but I knew what that felt like. I had already faced the same physical battle that I knew was ahead of her. So I became her physical therapist. Over the next two years as we worked together, to get her strength back, we fell in love all over again, but this time as Jimmy and Rose. To me, it was proof that we were destined to be together."

Once again, Severus wondered 'what if' and cursed Albus for having dissuaded him from the journey. If only he had gone... destiny would have been different.

"And while starting over was wonderful, I couldn't even grieve with Rose over the son I thought we had lost, as that was a part of Lily's life, not Rose's. Even those precious memories were missing. Her memories of me, of Hogwarts, of the wizarding world, of our life together, our child, of magic - were all gone. Everything was gone… everything except for a few fragments that kept surfacing… and those were all of you." James admitted with a catch in his voice.

"At first I was jealous, and I hated you for that, and started to doubt again if Lily and I were truly soul mates. But even as Rose – Lily felt that a large part of her was missing and it made her unhappy, she wanted desperately to remember. I loved he so much, be it Lily or Rose, that even if it meant losing her to you, I wanted to help her come back."

James paused to take a deep breath. It was hard disclosing his innermost fears and thoughts to his worst enemy, and so far, nothing he'd said seemed to have penetrated the other man's thick skull. He had no choice but to continue for Lily's sake.

"And then I was grateful... grateful to you Severus Snape. Grateful, that because you had been such a big part of her life, that you were helping her to hold onto her tenuous link to magic. Grateful, because if it hadn't been for you, I…no, _we_ would have lost the Lily part of Rose forever. It wasn't until last Christmas Eve that her memories of her past life started to come back, and I truly doubt if they ever would have if it hadn't been for you. You didn't kill Lily, Severus… you saved her."

"Why are you telling me this?" Severus finally asked when James stopped his tale, the spy instincts in him questioning his motives.

James had to take a deep breath before he could answer that question. "Because Severus... I want us to be friends, and not just for Lily's sake. I guess what I am trying to say is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every little petty prank that I ever pulled on you. You didn't deserve it. I know you harbour a grudge against me for saving your sorry ass when Sirius almost got you killed. I can understand that, because a life debt is a heavy burden to bear, especially to an arrogant prat like me. I know because I owe two of them myself - one to Sirius, for saving my body, and one to you for saving my soul. Even though my body finally healed, I would have died of sorrow if I had lost Lily as well as Harry. Consider your life debt to me paid back in full. We're even in my book."

At the sceptical look on Severus' face, James continued, "The only other thing I want to say is that Lily loves you, she always has. That's one of the reasons that I was always so jealous of you. Because of that piece of her heart that belonged to you instead of me, that piece that was such a part of her that she never lost it, even when she lost all the rest. I used to think that it had to be either you or me, and there wasn't another choice, but I was wrong. I know now that Lily's heart is big enough for both of us to be in it. Lily and I are soul mates, but then - so are you two. And I can't deny it any longer."

"You mean – you are willing to step aside?" Severus only dared to hope.

"No... at least not in the way that you're implying. The ancient Chinese had a symbol to represent how the universe works, the yin-yang, the outer circle representing the whole, and the two intertwined halves inside representing the energies that cause everything to work. Neither half by itself can survive on its own. It takes both to create harmony."

"I am not unfamiliar with the concept, but you are digressing." Severus said dryly. "And as I said before - I am busy. So if you have a point to make, please make it and go."

"I'm almost finished, you insufferable…" James bit back his retort. He could do this. He had to - for Lily. "Then you know how each half of the yin-yang is also not complete in itself. They each have a heart in its core that finishes it. Mine, is filled by my brothers, Sirius and Remus. For Lily, for some reason known only to Merlin himself, it appears to be you. To me the outer circle is family, our children, who make everything else worthwhile. Without every part that makes it up, our family isn't complete. I didn't understand that for the longest time, but I do now, and I believe it's true."

James stopped to see if his words were making any impact at all, and was disheartened when there was no reply from the other man, only more stone cold silence. He didn't know what else he could say to try and reach him and make him understand. He shook his head with resignation, how would anything be able to mend Lily's broken heart if Severus refused her friendship once again?

"But the only thing I don't understand is why – why, when you claim to know Lily so much better than I do, why you don't believe that too? And why the bloody hell do you keep throwing the love she is offering you, back in her face? She remembered you… don't you remember her?"

It wasn't that Severus didn't want to reply, it was that he couldn't. Stunned, he remained frozen as James turned his back and started to walk out his door. Pausing on the threshold, he looked back at the unyielding man and sighed again.

"Family dinner is at six thirty. You are welcome, on any terms you feel fair."

Severus' well-practiced shield of aloofness cracked slightly as a single tear slid down his sallow cheek. "Sod off Potter. Nothing is 'fair' about this and it is far past 'too late'. To quote a cliché - I've burned my bridges behind me. Nothing can fix it now."

"That's where you're wrong… it's never too late to turn around, and those bridges you burned? We have plenty of wood for rebuilding, and if you need more - we'll get it."

Severus was again at a loss for words. Would Potter really do that... for him?

"Well, if you change your mind… I think you may already know where to find us."


	19. A Patchwork Egg: part 14

Severus Snape sat in his cold dreary house, in front of his cold dreary hearth, for hour after cold dreary hour. As the room grew gradually lighter and then darker again, Severus was unable to move, unable to react, unable to think, until through his mental fog he heard a weak chirp.

The egg!

Snapping out of his trance, Severus sprang up like a man possessed and rushed to where the egg laid abandoned on his desk. The tiny creature inside had done its best to hatch, despite the spells holding its shell fast. Yet after hours of struggling in vain, it had only managed to get the tip of the first purple wing out. Now its energy was almost totally depleted.

Severus quickly cast a _'Finite' _to remove the binding spells, then gently pried back the broken pieces of shell around the wing and carefully lifted the creature out of the debris. Staring down at the fragile life in his palm, he realized that it symbolized everything precious that he had loved and lost in his life - happiness long thought dead and grieved over that had been miraculously reborn, and along with it, another chance. If only it wasn't already too late, if only he wasn't doomed to repeat the same mistake twice.

The ugly coloured little creature gasped slightly, shuddered, and then laid still and cold in his hand. NO! He refused to let it die! It absolutely would NOT!

Rushing with it to his small basement lab, Severus started rummaging frantically through all the bottles and jars until he found a small vial of blood red viscous liquid. Using a small dropper, he slowly forced a trickle of the thick potion down its tiny throat, and then carefully bathed it in tepid water infused with chamomile and lavender to warm it, and gently applied citrus oils laced with diluted bundimun to clean it.

As he worked, he thought about the Potters - Lily was so optimistically positive that they could all be 'one big happy family' if they just tried. And the infuriating Potter junior was so unquestioningly positive that he, Severus Snape, could somehow do the impossible and save the egg for him - which he was convinced would also 'save this one big happy family' from complete and utter destruction. While Potter senior was as idiotically positive as the other two, that they could likewise to the impossible, and somehow put the past behind them and… (gag)… be '_friends'_.

The negativity in his soul repelled away from all this positivity, much as oppositely charged magnets would. In a flash of insight that shook him to the very core, though years late in coming, he realized that as much as he loved Lily, marriage to him would have never worked out.

His naturally dour and cynical attitude would have gradually smothered the very things about her that he loved so much, while James' nurtured her to grow and blossom. Marriage to him would have ended with Lily resenting him and becoming bitter, and he would have hated her for it. While he was being totally honest (since there was no one around to witness it), he would also admit that their irritating son wasn't solely the worst parts of James Potter, but a fusion of the best parts of both of them.

The fates were right to have made those three a family, he thought contemptuously. They all deserved each other - the stupid, stubborn, positively pigheaded Gryffindors that they are!

As he worked on the dying creature, a bizarre thought popped into his mind - that if he were to be successful, it would be the sign he needed to do something even more bizarre - tell James Potter that he was right. Correction, that he wasn't _completely _wrong.

There was no need to go overboard, it being best to stick with the policy of never telling a Potter that they are right about anything, even if only in his own mind. With the wager made with fate, he worked diligently throughout the night, rejecting the thought of giving up time after time, until exhaustion finally overpowered him into unwilling submission.

Slumped over his worktable he had fitful dreams of running through a forest after something he couldn't quite see. It was just an impression of white feathers, the faint rustle of wings, a child's giggle, and the echo of running feet, but the desire to know what it was, kept him following it farther and farther until shadows swallowed the path behind him. All around him, construction paper Easter lilies nodding on impossibly bright green pipe-cleaner stems lit up the forest floor. Only when he reached out to touch them, they burst into flames in his hand and he could hear the Dark Lord's laughter ring out mockingly behind him. Looking back, no one was there.

Following the illusive winged thing deeper and deeper into the forest, it finally lead him to a clearing, in the centre of which stood a cottage that looked startlingly like Lily's cottage from Godric's Hollow. From inside he could hear the music of her laughter and he longed to knock on the door. Then he heard other voices from inside – the voice of the Marauders. They were all there. James was wrong - Lily didn't need him.

As he turned to leave, the combination of a burst of furious feathers from above and a small body tackling him from below, knocked the wind out of him and drove him back until he stumbled and fell through the now open doorway. When he opened his eyes and looked up from his prone position, all around him were the faces of the mangy Marauders and one lovely Lily. It was like waking up in the middle of a bad low budget version of Snow White and the seven dwarfs, sans a few dwarfs. Unfortunately, the few that remained – Dopey, Smuggy, and Furry - were not the best of the lot in his opinion.

Steeling himself for a barrage of insults, he was mystified when instead they all started smiling, and not the 'I'm-about-to-hex-you-into-oblivion' smiles he expected, but ones of warm welcome he did not. Then James Potter himself reached out, and pulled him to his feet, saying he was glad that he had come. After the rest accosted him with one armed hugs and pats on the back, Potter junior, dressed as a little shepherd boy, grabbed hold of his hand, and looking up at him with those brilliant emerald eyes, he declared that now that the third wise man had finally arrived, the Christmas play could go on.

Potter junior then led him to a large family table where they all sat down for dinner, which though it had the aroma of a traditional Easter dinner of early spring lamb, looked suspiciously like it was made of chocolate, surrounded on every side by every kind of pie, pastry, and sweet imaginable. Even odder than the menu was the fact, that instead of his customary all black ensemble he was now dressed in a soft sky blue jumper with shooting stars racing across it, comfortable faded muggle jeans, and of all things bright pink fluffy bunny slippers. Although none of these oddities seemed to faze the others at all - of course, they were all dressed as Christmas elves while sporting large white furry rabbit ears instead of the normal pointed elf variety, so really… what could they say?

Severus started to wonder how Albus had managed to invade his dreams, as he couldn't think of anyone else who would affect this massive contradictory transfiguration of wardrobe, menu, and holidays. When Lily junior, who was sitting on his lap of all places, cooed prettily, wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb, drew it coyly to her little pink mouth, and with a giggle chomped down on it with her very sharp little first baby tooth.

The sudden pain woke him to find that he was indeed bleeding, as the little creature with its large amber eyes and covering of soft down, was feasting voraciously on his thumb.

"Ouch! Stop that you little beast or I will regret saving you!" he snapped, trying unsuccessfully to shake it off until he had the brilliant idea of luring it away from his own flesh with a meal of a stray bowtruckle that had escaped from one of the upturned jars. The twiggy snack didn't satisfied it for long, and still hungry, the little ball of down with the two huge eyes, screeched plaintively at him before toppling over comically on its head trying to get his attention and more bowtruckles.

"You're an owl?"

Severus was dumbfounded. That was the last thing he had expected. He had believed for the past week, that the egg he was helping Potter hatch was most likely that of a chicken, and so didn't understand the child's overwhelming preoccupation with its 'suitability'. Of course, a pet chicken was not common in towns and cities, pets of that sort more often found in the countryside. Still, not completely unheard of. However, a 'hatch-it-yourself' kit for an Easter chick was a trifle more abnormal.

When the Marauders arrived, more concerned with Harry's proximity to the egg than to himself - a much more obvious threat in his mind, it hadn't taken too much of a leap for him to put two and two together, and come to the conclusion that the egg was one of the more unusual and dangerous varieties. Jumping off from that theory - it wasn't a stretch from there to conclude from the mottled colouring that it was most likely a dragon and not the fault of the Dursley demon as Potter had led him to believe. The initial peek that the others had seen of purple, green and pink wrinkled wing had seemed to confirm it in their minds as well.

Stroking its fine dry fuzz, Severus realized that the dye he had tried to banish, with his earlier attempt to clean its shell, had instead travelled though the porous outside casing to the little bird developing on the inside, permanently transferring the Easter egg colouring to its skin. While the little hatchling was still wet with the albumen fluid, its fine down was translucent, making the membranes of the wings look very leathery and dragonesque with their odd colouring.

Thankfully though, the bath of citrus oils and bundimun had cleaned it up quite nicely, and while the skin was permanently discoloured, its outer layer of down was all pure white, except for one lingering pink polka dot right on the top of its perturbed looking little head. Nevertheless, Severus had no doubt that when its feathers grew in, it would be a very fine looking snowy owl indeed.

A low sound, never before heard in the dilapidated house on Spinner End, rumbled through the lab, gradually growing louder until Severus broke out in uncontrollable laughter. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he chortled with glee as he remembered how shocked the Marauder's were when they first saw the wing, and how they had all rapidly jumped to the wrong conclusions. The big bad brave Gryffindors - terrified of a tiny little owl. Oh, to see such chagrin on their faces when they found out would be priceless!

It was far too good a joke to keep all to himself, but… with whom could he share it - when he had no friends?

'_RAP!'_

When she heard the decisive single rap on the door, Lily called out to her husband from her place on the comfy couch, where she was lying amid drifts of used tissues and chocolate wrappers. "James! Sirius is at the door again. Will you _please_ tell him to go away? He keeps trying to get back in after I locked his door from this side. For someone with no attention span he is being far too persistent! He just won't give up, and I'm still not ready to talk to him."

As soon as they got back from Spinner's End the day before, Lily had barricaded their flat from his friends, and had cried almost non-stop, that is when she wasn't eating the ears off from the stash of chocolate bunnies they had bought to hide for Harry to find. James was just grateful that by apparating, he had arrived back at the flat minutes before anyone else, and so was already inside when she banned the others, otherwise he would have had to sleep on Sirius' small settee instead of in his own comfortable bed.

Whenever James thought that Lily had cried herself out, Sirius or Remus (even though he was guiltless) would try apologizing again for their part in ruining her cherished relationship with Severus. Then she would start up again, and a few more earless bunnies would meet their demise.

James wasn't too worried. He knew that she wasn't really too upset at Sirius anymore, and that she had never been upset at Remus to start with. He realized that much of her emotional state right now was due to her erratic hormones, and that eventually she would let his friends back in. However, he was keeping her wand well away from her, just in case. If a few bunnies must be sacrificed for his friend's safety, so be it.

"Okay for now, but you're going to have to talk to him sometime - and soon. Easter dinner is about ready, and I invited both of them." James remarked as he went to open the door, drawing his wand, just in case Sirius decided to be obnoxious and to try and push his way in when he did so.

"What do you want? I already told you that…" the rest of his lecture died on his lips as he saw who was on the other side of the door, "…you aren't Sirius," James said stating the obvious as his hand instinctively raised his wand to protect his family.

"I want you to step aside and let me in." Severus Snape said dryly even though James' wand was mere millimetres from his throat. "And I assure you Potter, I am quite serious. That is of course, unless there was an unexpressed expiration date on your invitation?"

"Er… no. No! Come in, please do!" James said grinning stupidly, and moving aside. Yesterday as the clocked ticked closer and closer to six thirty, he had hoped against hope that the doorbell would ring, and then with each tock of the clock after, the hope died more and more. After that, he really didn't ever expect him to show up.

"Before I do, I just want to make it very clear that I am not a _'Wise Man'_, nor I do wear fluffy pink bunny slippers, or dress like an elf… _ever_."

"Um… never thought you were… er… or that you did." James replied trying not to snicker at the implied confession to stupidity the dour man had just unwittingly made. Only when Sirius and Remus, who had come down the outside stairs to the landing to see who had come, and arrived just in time to hear it as well and broke up laughing, he failed miserably at his attempt to remain sober.

"I fail to see the humour. Perhaps I was wrong to come after all," Severus bristled, but as he turned on his heels to leave, he found his way blocked by the other two marauders.

"Not so fast Snape," Sirius said pushing him backwards towards the door. "You're my ticket back in to Lily's good graces! Now that you're here, there is no way I am letting you leave."

"Nor I," Remus said backing him up and stepping up to help block Severus' way out.

"Get out of my way Black, before I sic the Dementors on you," he sneered.

When both Remus and Sirius put a hand out to stop him, at the same time that Severus stiffly tried to move between them, he found himself off balance in a very déjà vu moment. Suddenly he was looking up from the floor, flat on his back, with all the mangy Marauders grinning eerily over him, and one red-eyed puffy-faced (but still very lovely) Lily kneeling beside him.

"Oh Sev! I _knew_ you didn't really mean it! I just knew it!"

Lily joyfully threw her arms around his neck as he tried to rise. Nevertheless, looking at her red swollen eyes still wet with tears, Severus doubted her statement and he felt a rush of shame for being the cause of her unhappiness once again.

Although his plans had only called for returning the owl, laughing at all of them, rubbing it in their faces, and then leaving again promptly (with as much ado and pomp as he could manage), Severus found himself unable to resist Lily's happy onslaught. The thought that he was the one to both cause her tears, and then to stop them, was disconcerting, but it gave him the courage to ask the one question that had been foremost on his mind for the past twenty-four hours.

"I am only here to return something that belongs to your son. Besides…I thought you said it was too late… didn't you?" he asked softly into her deep auburn hair, as she continued to hug him.

At that question, Lily let go and sat up wiping away her remaining tears with no less than three handkerchiefs presented to her from all sides. Severus resigned himself to the inevitable rejection. However, once again, his idea of the natural order events was thrown out of kilter when, instead of Lily answering his question, it was Sirius who spoke up first.

"If there is one thing I learned from my lengthy holiday in the North Sea is that it is _never_ too late. Not until your soul has been sucked out through your eyeballs, and even then there was this wild theory going around the cells that if you … Ooof! Moony! What the heck was that for?" A well-placed elbow diverted Sirius off his new tangent, "…I was just saying..." the rest of his thought was then lost in the look on Lily's face. When he saw her smiling gratefully up at him, a wave a relief wash over him as if he had just had a good belly rub and ear scratch, and he fell happily silent with his tongue lolling out of one corner of his mouth.

"Sirius is right Sev… until your soul has been sucked out through your eyeballs it will _never _be too late. And even then I'd probably still give you one more chance." Lily said seriously, with a small smile playing on her lips.

"Why?" Severus finally croaked out, his throat dry from emotion.

"Because Sev, whether you like it or not. You are a part of a family. My family. _This _family," she said waving her hand at the others in the room. "…and I love you Sev, and I want you to stay. We all do. Don't we boys?" this she asked almost challengingly, but their heads were all nodding in agreement with a chorus of 'yeses' raining down on Severus' ears before she had even finished.

Holding Severus' face in her hands and looking deep into his eyes Lily finally answered his question. "You asked me to make a choice, and I told you I couldn't. But I never told you why. I couldn't choose then, because I had already made my choice. Yes, I chose James for my husband, but I choose you Severus Snape as my best friend. Sev - I choose _you._"

"Oh," for the second time in his life Severus was for a loss of words.

"What? That's it? Just an 'Oh.' After all this trial and tribulation, and there's no critical comeback? No razor-sharp riposte? No witty wisecrack? I must say I am a little disappointed," Sirius needled just because he simply couldn't help himself.

"Sirius!" Lily threatened, her bright eyes darkening, "Remember! You are still in the dog house."

"Yes Ma'am! Grovelling at your feet now commencing!" Sirius fell to his knees and bowed to the ground. "Milady, your most humble servant is at your command."

"Now _that _is a neat spell Lily." Severus said impressed, gaining his back his dry sense of humour immediately. "Was it a wandless_ 'Imperio'_? May I try one on him too?"

"I think not," she laughed in return, finally getting up and indicating to Sirius he could stop now. "It would be very irresponsible of me to let others play with my toys."

At a shocked quirked eyebrow from Severus at this remark, the rest just broke up laughing again.

"It's a long story, for family only. So remind me to tell you some day... brother." James grinned, holding out his hand to pull Severus up.

"You are _not_ going to… _hug_ me." Severus said more as a statement of fact rather than as a question.

"If he tries, I'll put him in a full body bind," Lily laughed at the look of horror on his face.

After a slight hesitation, Severus fought off his deep-seated revulsion and took the offered hand.

As soon as he did the déjà vu feeling from his dream returned. It came complete with one-sided hugs. Them hugging him anyway. For his part he remained stiff and unresponsive, and glaring full force at Lily for not living up to her end of the deal. Her excuse was that she was laughing too hard to wield her wand properly. Then hearty congratulatory pats on the back were added to the assault, as if he had just been awarded a prize such as the First Order of Merlin.

Glancing about at the cosy room, friendly faces, with the aroma of Easter dinner wafting in from the kitchen, he finally comprehended that he could be a part of it if he chose to be, and he realized that he had indeed won a prize.

When they led him to the scrubbed wood table and invited him to sit down and eat, he felt as if he were back in his dream. Lily had even plopped the giggling red headed Holly down on his lap the minute he sat down so she could go into the kitchen to help with the food. All that were missing were the elf costumes, rabbit ears, and the little shepherd boy. Come to think of it… where was the little shepherd boy?

"Where is Potter?" he blurted out.

"I'm right here." James said as he swung out of the kitchen with a platter of roasted spring lamb balanced in one hand and a plate of jacket potatoes in the other.

James was amused to see that Holly had already entwined her little velcro fingers into Severus' long lanky hair, and was chewing on his robes. In response, he was absentmindedly bouncing her on his knee. Perhaps he should have warned him that Lily had just fed her… nah! He would find out soon enough.

"No! The other Potter. The short one."

"Harry? You know you can call him that if you'd care to. He'd like it, and it would be less confusing than calling us both 'Potter'. Of course, you _could_ call me James, and I wouldn't bite your head off either – but it's up to you. As long as Lily is happy, I am happy," he said putting down the platters. "Hey… where is Harry? He was here right a moment ago helping me cook dinner. He really is good at cookery. In fact, he cooked ninety percent of it, well okay a hundred percent, but I watched," he added proudly.

"A lofty accomplishment for you, I am sure." Severus remarked dryly testing the waters.

James just shrugged good-naturedly and grinned back unfazed.

"My wife, son, and obviously now my daughter, all think you're wonderful. Be as condescending as you want, I guess I can put up with you too. Besides, I can't complain - I set myself up for that one."

Friendly banter putting him completely out of his element, Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and without realizing what he was doing he put Holly to his shoulder and started patting her back, oblivious to the long stream of baby spit up now running down the back of his robes. He was still unsure of what was going on, and had to keep pinching himself to verify some unending surreal nightmare didn't have him in its grip.

'_What happened to all the arrogant Gryffindors I so love to jibe? This little nest of Hufflepuffs is just too surreal. Hm… nest… that reminds me…'_

"Where did you say Potter was? I have something to return to him."

"He's probably in his room. He tends to still shy away when he hears people come to the door. I'll let him know dinner's on the table." Remus said getting up and waving the others back down as he headed for the children's bedroom.

Remus smiled to himself at how well the day had turned out after all. He really preferred it when everyone just got along and liked each other. In his opinion, you never could have enough friends, no matter what shape, size, or attitude they came with. He was glad that after so many years of tension and fighting, James, Sirius, and Severus seemed to be trying to put it behind them. He had always wanted to get to know Severus better, and not just because he was a master at potions, and could help him out with wolfsbane, but because Lily was his friend, and he knew that he must be worth knowing if Lily thought he was. The inclusion of Severus into their family was truly a celebration worthy of the season.

Opening the children's door the smile fell off his face, and all the tension that had been slowing seeping from his shoulders, jumped painfully back into his muscles when he saw Harry busily trying to shove his pillow into his book bag. There was only one reason he could think of that Harry would be doing that. He started forward to let Harry know he was there, and to try to find out what was wrong, when he saw Harry take his stuff stag out of his bag, give it a hug, and stuff it into Holly's crib with a sob. Godfathers were great, but there were times when a little boy just needed his daddy.

He quietly reclosed the door and rested his forehead on the jamb. He suddenly felt a hundred years old instead of just thirty. Here they all were celebrating their family, and from what he had just seen, Harry felt as alone as ever. Remus took a deep breath to gather his wits before turning back around to face James. When he did, his face was pale and his breathing uneven.

"Are you alright Remus?" James asked with concern. The full moon had just past and the bad batch of wolfsbane this last cycle, on top of the half doses he had been taking for several cycles before, had all conspired to take their toll, as a result Remus' health was not at its best.

"I'm okay Prongs…" Remus said faintly grabbing the arm of the couch and sitting down heavily. "It's not me, it's your Prongslet. You better go talk with him, he's running away."

"Oh no he's not Moony." James flatly denied, stabbing a piece of carved meat from the platter. He was absolutely certain of it this time. After losing his son three times since getting him back from the Dursleys, he had given up on the idea of putting a monitoring spell on his door key, and put it on Harry himself. Now there was no way Harry could run away, or anyone could take him, without him knowing. The spell would have alerted him immediately if he had left the flat, or even got more than twenty meters away (he wasn't taking any more chances).

"He is right where he should be, under my roof, except that he should be at the table with us, having some of this delicious food that he cooked. 'HARRY! GET OUT HERE! DINNER! WE HAVE COMPANY!"

"James, it's not polite to yell at the table." Lily admonished him walking in from the kitchen with platter of hot cross buns to add to the meal. "What will Sev think of us?"

"That you are the typical uncouth Gryffindors." Sev replied wryly.

Remus could see them heading off the subject, so before they got too far, he decided to reel them back into focus. "Let me rephrase James… Harry is _preparing_ to run away."

"No!" Lily gasped, dropping the platter with a clatter.

"No he's not Lily. I won't let him run away again." James assured her, motioning her to sit down as he spelled the buns off the floor to dust them off to pronounce them good as new, taking a bite of one. Lily looked at him sideways and took them back off the table.

"Again?" Severus asked narrowing his eyes speculatively at James, the thoughts of possible abuse once again fraying the edges of his concern. It wouldn't be the first time that it was the last person you would suspect of such an atrocity. In his experience, children did not just run away from home for no reason at all. Even if he had not taken an oath to protect the boy-who-lived, as an adult he would still have a responsibility to protect any child that crossed his path from harm.

"As your child's teacher I have a duty to ask this, and I must demand a truthful answer - why would your son repeatedly flee the familial bonds?"

"Er… the first time it was just a big misunderstanding…" James said sheepishly, and Lily and Remus both nodded their heads in agreement.

"Go on."

"Well, Lily and I just found him last Christmas Eve and rescued him from the in-laws…"

"Rescued?" Severus ironically thought about the Dursley's interview in the Daily Prophet that claimed a 'horde of wizards' had stolen the child from their loving arms. Potter did have a big head, but he and Lily - an entire 'horde'? He had underestimated the Dursleys. He didn't think they had that much imagination between the lot of them.

"Another long story, the short version is that after we got him back, Harry got this idea into his head that we didn't want him because he was in the way, and thought we didn't have room for him or some such thing, so he ran away to the play park. But Remus found him, brought him back, and we talked it all out. So it's all good now."

"Is it?" Severus asked doubtfully.

"Quite."

"Then why did he do it again?"

"Oh that? Well that was just another misunderstanding…"

"Another long story I presume?"

"Er… yeah. The short version is that Harry got this idea into his head that we didn't want him because we couldn't afford to keep him, so he ran away to Gringotts."

"Gringotts? Odd choice."

"Actually, it was quite brilliant of him and it stands to reason, since that's where all the money is." He said noting out of the corner of his eye that Sirius was looking terribly smug. "Anyway Sirius brought him back, we talked it all out, and it's good now."

"Is it?" Severus asked still doubtful, as there seemed to be a reoccurring theme arising.

"Quite," James replied firmly.

"Then why did he do it Saturday and why does the werewolf think he is doing it again now, just one day later?"

"Er… I don't know." James admitted. "Moony is right, maybe I better go and find out."

"Before you do, how about the rest of you? Do any of you know why Potter is upset this time?" Severus polled the group only to have a lot of worried looks exchanged and several shrugs returned.

Thought not, he snorted, but at least all his clueless Gryffindors seemed to be back from their short trip through the rosy world of Hufflepuff-land. Regretfully, on their trek back, they had made a wide detour around Ravenclaw-city. They could have benefited from a jaunt through that local.

After working closely with Harry for the past week, Severus felt he had a very good idea of what it was going on in his miniscule nine-year-old mind. Now that he knew who 'the parents' actually were, and hearing some of the story from the other side, it put an entirely different perspective on things. Nevertheless, exacting man he was, he needed to verify his theory. Standing up, he deposited the burpy baby unceremoniously in the nearest lap.

"You will not be necessary Potter, I will talk with the boy myself," he announced.

"And just what are you going to say to him, that I haven't already?" James snapped.

"It's not so much what I am going to say, as what I am going to ask."

"So what are you going to ask?"

"Why it is that he is upset. I am sure none of you dimwits thought to come right out and ask him directly."

"Ouch!" Sirius commented laughingly as James' red face confirmed the fact.

"Ah… I think maybe James should be the one." Remus started to suggest from the couch, only to have Lily contradict him.

"Let's let Sev try Remus," Lily encouraged, "We haven't been doing too great a job lately in that department, and Sev does have his ways of getting information. Maybe he can really find out why Harry is upset."

"Quite true, I do." Severus agreed feeling superior. "I have something to return to the boy, which may very well resolve the issue without further muddling the waters. I will be back. In the meantime you may occupy yourself with this." Taking several items out of his pocket, he tossed a rolled up parchment on the table in front of Sirius.

"What is it?"

"My terms. That is your copy, I kept the original." Turning with an impressive billow of robes, he stalked towards Harry's door, flicking his wand surreptitiously as he went, so that from behind it looked as though even the door was fearful of being in his way and opened before him so he wouldn't have to break his stride.

After the door completed its job, by closing silently but swiftly behind him as soon as he passed through, Sirius gave out a low admiring whistle as he picked up the parchment and tossed it over to Remus. "Wicked! I gotta learn how to do that thing with the robes!"

On his short trip to Harry's room, Severus had considered (and promptly discarded) several strategies. The child obviously was not a brilliant learner like his mother, if in the face of overwhelming evidence he failed thrice to grasp the concept that his parents wanted him, to the point of his running away. Therefore, the Ravenclaw analytical method would be useless. In addition, the child clearly had not had enough experience with caring adults to realize that his furry godfathers would do anything for him, including rolling over and giving up their lives if need be. Therefore, the Hufflepuff touchy-feely method (which he was not good at anyway) would fall short. Without even asking, he had no doubt that they had already bungled things enough with their Gryffindor 'why-bother-to-think' tactics. That left Slytherin cunning as the only viable approach, and secretly Severus was proud of it. Perhaps some of his lessons had sunk in after all.

After taking the precaution of putting locking spells on all the entrances, and a _Muffliato _spell on the room to prevent eavesdropping, Severus stood silently for several minutes while the boy-who-lived-to-continually-make-him-regret-his-actions went about his packing and deliberately ignored him. Severus did not appreciate being ignored, especially when he had swallowed his pride, and had even endured invasion of his personal space, all for the sole benefit of the wretched child who was now ignoring him. He carefully put one of the two items he still held in his hand, back in his pocket for now, and then folded his arms in front of him holding the other.

"Mister… '_Potter',_ please stop what you are doing." When Harry merely glanced sideways at him out of the corner of his eye, he added in a low calm voice, "Yes, I know that your name is not _'Krueger'_. Now please sit. I desire to converse with you."

"Don't haft to. This is my room, at least for a little while. So go away… I'm busy." Harry sniffed and turned his back to him. He pulled his maths book out of his book bag, tossed it on his bed, and tried shoving in his favourite jumper.

"Very well I will go. However, I found a photo on the school playground that I believe might belong to you. I thought you may want it back, but if you have no time…"

Harry whirled around shocked. He thought he would never see his picture again, and he had been too afraid of letting anyone know he had lost it, to ask Uncle Remmy's help to take another. Yet there it was, in his teacher's hand. He wondered if his teacher had gone to the trouble to look for it, just for him, after he found him scouring the trash bins behind the cafeteria. It made him even sadder he'd turned down his offer of a home.

Severus smirked when Harry gave him his full attention. He thought that might work.

"You found my picture? Oh! You did! Thank you very much, I do appreciate it." He took it reverently from his teacher's outstretched hand, then he turned his back once again, he slipped it carefully into his book bag and continued packing.

Severus was miffed. This was not the way the scene was supposed to play out, the contrary child should be wreathed in smiles and hugging him around the waist for returning his precious photo. Whereupon, he would then present the second lost item with a flourish, and all would be well with Lily's boy once again. Problem solved in less than a minute. Under no scenarios should Potter be continuing his infernal packing.

"Please sit," he asked once again.

"Sorry, still busy."

"You will do as I say." If a reasonable request didn't work, he would take a firmer stand.

"No Sir," Harry returned quietly, only without the defiant snippy tone that Severus was expecting. Instead, he just sounded resigned as he pulled out his geography book and discarded it in the same manner as his maths book.

Severus sat down on the bed, picked up the geography book, and thumbed idly through it while watching Harry try to pack the jumper again.

"You realize don't you, that will never fit into your book bag? You will also need your books. I should not be telling you this, as it constitutes an unfair advantage over your classmates, however, there is a pop quiz first thing tomorrow morning on South Africa."

"There isn't any test tomorrow - you quit. Remember Sir? Besides, it doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore." Harry shrugged and tossed his reader aside as well, to try and make more room. Then taking off his new trainers he gently placed them under the bed, thinking when the new baby's feet got big enough he could wear them.

"So I did. Nevertheless, I still beg to differ with you - education is important."

"Not for me." He replied as shoved his tatty old trainers on his feet after tying the broken laces together. He'd fished them out the trash bin the day before when they had returned to the flat, thinking he would probably need them. Never did the reality dawn on him that neither of the Kruegers had made any motion towards taking him to Privet Drive, instead he had just kept waiting for the inevitable to happen.

"And why is that Mister Potter?" Severus asked leaning down and picking up the trainers from where Harry put them, thinking that he should have brought the box with the black leather shoes in it. They were much more sensible.

"I told you already. You just didn't listen, and I'm just like you – I don't like to repeat myself." He turned back to packing his book bag. Maybe if he took all the books out…

If it hadn't been for the matter-of-fact dead tone to his voice, Severus would have thought he was purposefully being a cheeky little blighter. "Humour me, and tell me again. I am listening this time," he replied instead of rightfully pointing out that he could have done a better job of listening the first time - if Harry had been totally forthcoming.

"Because…" Harry started replying quietly, but he reached the end of his rope when he tried one last time to shove the jumper in to find it just wouldn't fit no matter what he did. He ended up shouting, "…_because I can't do anything better than Dudley, that's why!_"

"You are wasting my time Potter. We have discussed that topic in length on prior occasions, and each time we proved that statement erroneous. In fact, you have done quite well on your quizzes lately."

"BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I CAN'T DO THAT ANYMORE!"

"Then quit shouting and make me understand. Volume does not add to the explanation." Severus said coolly.

"If I do _anything_ better than Dudley, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia will get upset. So it doesn't matter if I study or not, because I _have_ to fail the quiz. Can't you see?" Harry blurted without thinking.

"And why should you care about the emotional upheaval of the Dursley clan?"

"Because when they get upset they…"

"They _what_ Potter?"

"They lock me in my cupboard." Harry said softly sitting down next to Severus with a small sob. Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously thinking of the memory he'd salvaged from Harry's cousin. He might have to pay a call on the Dursleys in the near future.

"As the Dursley's are no longer your guardians, and the likelihood of the same outcome under the current regime is highly doubtful, I again pose the query – why do you care?"

"Because they-they're going to give me back to them."

"They? By 'they' are you referring to your parents? Two of the four overly anxious people in the next room? Lily and James Potter - or whatever alias they are choosing to call themselves today?" Severus asked to clarify.

Harry nodded sadly.

"And why do you believe that to be true?" Severus knew there was no possible way Lily would ever send her child away, so this had to be another one of Potter senior's famous 'misunderstandings'. Potter junior didn't realize it, but he would be lucky if his mother and father let him out of their sight long enough to attend Hogwarts when he turned eleven. Indeed, the whole insidious pack, which even now he knew was crowded on the other side of the door trying to listen in, would probably attempt to go with him. Knowing how Dumbledore pampered that gang – the old fool would probably let them.

"…'cause today is Easter and I didn't do what I was supposed to do. So now, I got to go back to the Dursleys, and I can't blame anyone for it but me. That was the deal – no blaming the parents."

"There was a 'deal' in the offering?"

Harry nodded again, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

"Elaborate on the terms of this 'deal'."

"I-I…" Harry was too upset for any more words to come, and just pulled his legs up and hugged them for all he was worth. By the time they had gotten back yesterday, his mum had started crying and still hadn't stopped. Mr. Krueger was so mad at him for making Mrs. Kruger cry, that he had hardly said anything to him, other than some things in Latin that he didn't understand while he waved his wand at him – and then he took away his door key! Mr. Krueger didn't trust him anymore. He knew at that moment that he had ruined his last chance at staying. He was only grateful they had allowed him to stay for one last night to complete the full two weeks, but really - what did it matter?

He had been hoping, even though Mr. Nathraichean said he was a lost cause, that if he could at least successfully hatch the egg for his godfathers he would redeem himself in their eyes enough to make them change their minds. But he hadn't even been able to do that. He swallowed over a big lump in his throat. It turned out that his uncles hadn't even really trusted him to do it in the first place, this whole time they had a backup egg they were hatching themselves. When they got back from his teachers house they showed him a newly hatched chick, and looked so proud of themselves.

Harry just felt sick to his stomach when he saw it.

They knew he was going to fail all along, what else could it have meant? Besides, they were right, the egg had died, and his last fragment of hope died along with it. Now, for his family fall apart at the last minute was just unbearable. Mrs. Krueger was crying, Mr. Krueger was mad, and his godfathers banished - all because he had killed the egg.

"I asked you to elaborate Mister Potter. How to you expect help if you do not explain?"

Harry shook his head. He just couldn't talk anymore, especially not with this gigantic lump in his throat.

"Very well." Severus got up and started pacing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"First let us analyze the situation to see if we can arrive at a reasonable course of action. Fact one - you will not talk. Fact two - I would like to put this matter to rest before your pack decides that I am torturing you and they burst down the door with wands drawn. Fact three – I have a way of looking into your mind to see the answers for myself."

Harry looked up startled. He just knew his teacher was a mind reader! How else could he know as much as he did?

"No it is not 'mind reading', per se, if that is what you are thinking. Mind reading is a muggle parlour trick done with acute observations and deductive reasoning, whereas what I am proposing to do is a magical discipline called Legilimency. If you agree, I will be able to see all of your memories through your eyes, as if they were my own, even the memories you hide from yourself. It's a powerful tool, and one that should not be used lightly. To use it without permission is a violation of the Wizards' Code of Ethics. It takes a great deal of trust to consciously allow someone to enter your mind, so permission should not be granted without due consideration. Do you have such trust in me?"

Harry thought hard about that. Mr. Nathraichean had never lied to him - except maybe about his name, he still wasn't clear on that one, but then everyone in his family seemed to have a muggle name and also a secret wizard name, so he guessed that didn't count. His teacher had also tried to help him when no one else did, and had kept his promises.

"…will it hurt?" he choked out.

"I will not lie to you Mister Potter, it will depend on the memories we view, as memories are linked to emotions, and emotions can be painful. Only you can know for sure what the potential for that will be."

Harry gave it some more thought. It was scary to think about someone looking in his mind – seeing _everything _that he had ever done... Oh no! What if Mr. Nathraichean Snape saw him charging his adventure to Gringotts to his tab!

He kind of liked his teacher and secretly thought that under that gruff exterior the teacher liked him a little bit as well. But after his teacher saw what a total loser freak he was, and how much he deserved all the punishments that the Dursleys ever gave him, would he still feel the same?

"I assure you I will hold no judgment against you for anything I might see. Consider this a one-time 'free pass' on any transgression to which you might be liable. And if you concentrate on recent events those memories will come to the forefront and we may not have to delve any deeper."

Harry took a deep breath and bravely nodded okay.

"Look at me then and concentrate." Harry turned and locked on to Severus' eyes. Within a blink, he was falling deep into the obsidian pools.

The events of the past few days, weeks, and months started running through Harry's mind as if on Dudley's movie camera, only in high-speed reverse. The film slowed every once in a while, as Severus paused the action to replay a scene more slowly. Each time he did, all of Harry's anxieties, fears, and hopes bubbled to the surface. It seemed as though a lifetime past before Severus broke eye contact with him. When he did, he felt drained and sagged against the man's shoulder, crying silently, his breath coming rapid and shallow.

"Breath Mister Potter. You did fine, it is all over." Severus said rubbing circles on the boy's back to calm him. What he saw had drained Severus as well, and if it weren't for the boy slumped against him, he would have felt like curling up into a small ball and crying as well.

He had been secretly congratulating himself on 'turning' the boy toward Slytherin. Only that wasn't the reason he had responded so well to his training. Potter craved a warm loving family as much as he himself did, but where he at least had a loving mother to soften the hard life he had growing up with an abusive father, this boy had had no one. Both of his caretakers had been neglectful and dismissive, taking every opportunity to demean him to ensure his low performing cousin shone in contrast.

Potter had gravitated towards Snape, not because he preferred him over James, but in spite of it. Although he was afraid of his teacher's brusque rigid non-caring manner, it was at the same time familiar to him, and with familiarity comes a measure of comfort. To understand Potter's deep seeded fears, he had gone deep enough to view the Dursleys in action, and had seen the parallels Potter had made in his own mind between his teacher and his relatives, and Snape was ashamed of the comparison.

When he knocked on Lily's door earlier, he had still been toying with the idea that she would eventually see reason and leave James for him. He told himself that if he were around her enough and patient, that she would see how he would make a much better father to her children than James ever could. Witnessing the child's memories of Lily and James together, it confirmed his earlier epiphany that Lily had made the right decision in choosing James over him.

Trying to imagine himself in the same scenes, he could see how his obsessive love would have suffocated both her and her children, whereas James' love was honourable. He could see that James' claim that he would give up his family, if that would make them happy and keep them safe, was absolutely true. James loved them that much, where he would have never been able to make that self same sacrifice.

The only solace he had left was that Potter had also been able to draw a few positive parallels between his teacher and his two beloved furry godfathers. Moreover, despite all the belittling, the boy genuinely 'liked' him.

When Harry's breathing finally became slow and steady, Severus awkwardly put his arm around the boys shoulder, telling himself that he wasn't really 'hugging' him – he was merely steadying himself for what he had to say now.

"Thank you Potter, I know that was difficult."

"…so… _(hiccup)_… do you hate me now?" Harry asked sniffling.

"Of course not you obnoxiously drippy child!" he said handing him a handkerchief to blow his nose. "Myself perhaps, but not you."

"But what about all the money I owe?"

"Money?"

"Yeah… I charged a lot to you. Are you mad?"

"Consider the debt paid. We are even - I hadn't remunerated you for the errands yet."

"But I didn't earn nearly that much! Don't I owe you more?"

"Not to fret. The rest will be more than amply taken care of. I'm sure by the time his seven years of schooling is completed, young Weasley will have done something to deserve what I have planned. So in a way it is justifiable as well as preventative."

"Who?" that was the last thing Harry expected to hear and it was confusing – who could 'young Weasley' be and why would he willingly pay off Harry's debt? And why would it take seven years?

"It doesn't matter," his teacher assured him, and then threw out another unexpected observation. "We are the pair, aren't we?"

"Huh?"

"You and I, neither one of us are able to recognize real love, even when it's waived right under our noses. Of course, you have a good excuse – your abominable relatives never bothered showed you what it looked like. Therefore, how could anyone possibly expect you to recognize it now? I on the other hand, am just a fool."

"But I don't understand… April Fools Day was two weeks ago Sir."

"True. However for some, it is a never ending holiday that keeps on giving, somewhat like a communicable disease," he replied dryly with just a hint of a smile tickling the corner of his mouth.

"Are you ill?" Harry was concerned since his teacher really was not acting himself.

"Only a bit of indigestion as I think about the crow I'll be having for dinner."

"But I made roast lamb!"

Severus just gave him a patronizing almost-smile. Potter just kept proving time after time that sarcasm and irony were a waste on the young. A pity since they were such a rich source of it themselves. Slipping his hand into his pocket to pull out the owl, he had to refrain from swearing when it hungrily nipped at his finger. "If you still desire my aid, I am almost positive that I can guarantee you do not have to lose your 'deal'."

"How?" Harry asked morosely. "I killed the egg and I…" his jaw dropped in shock when Severus opened his hand to reveal the baby bird with the large amber eyes, snow white down, and one rather surprising bright pink dot on the top of its head.

"Not quite, the silly thing is surprisingly resilient."

"Hedwig!" Harry breathed and carefully scooped it up the fuzz ball and nuzzled it to his cheek, while the owl nipped at his earlobe, making him giggle slightly.

"Hedwig?"

"Yes, Hedwig." Harry said with a slightly lopsided smile. "It was in that book you threw at me yesterday – _The History of Magic_, I think it was. When I ducked, it landed on the floor and fell open to the picture of this beautiful lady all in white and that was her name - Lady Hedwig. Holly really liked the picture so I thought that if the egg lived, I would name her that. It's a brilliant name isn't it?"

"It will do fine. I'm sure the owl will live up to her namesake. Now it seems to me that since the issue is satisfactorily resolved, as the egg successfully hatched, it is time for you to cease this nonsensical packing and have your dinner. Your owl needs fed."

Severus stood up and expected Harry to follow suit. However, he remained sitting on the bed, one fat tear rolling down his cheek.

"It's too late. I didn't hatch the egg, you did. Besides Hedwig isn't mine – she belongs to my godfathers. I was trying to hatch her for them." Harry said sadly putting the little bird reluctantly back into Severus' hand as it screeched in protest.

Hedwig knew the voice of her boy, and now that she had reunited with him, she wanted to stay that way. He was her human! He had always taken care of her and made sure she was safe, and this other human was very stingy when it came to bowtruckles!

"What do you expect me to do with this ridiculous feathered nuisance?" Severus asked dangling it at arm's length by two fingers and dropping it squawking back into Harry's lap. "I simply cannot allow you to foist your responsibilities off onto me Mister Potter."

"I'm sorry Mr. Nathraichean… I didn't mean to mess up again, but could you please give her to one of my Godfathers for me while I finish up here?" Harry said stubbornly putting the owl back in his hand one more time. "I would myself but it would be too hard to give her up, and I don't think that it would be a good idea to take her to Privet Drive, Aunt Petunia doesn't like pets."

"You have a singularly irritating one track mind Mister Potter. You need to get this through your thick skull – you are not going anywhere, and you need to feed your owl before it attacks another one of my digits. I wish to leave here with all ten intact. They are not owl snacks, as your bird seems to think."

"But I have to leave. I don't have a choice." Harry said despondently trying very hard to not sound whingey. He didn't want pity, he only had himself to blame, and that was that. "Mr. Krueger said that sometimes it's hard to do the right thing, and he's right. I lost the deal, so this is the right thing to do. Thanks for saving Hedwig. I am glad she is okay. But it wasn't because of me. And even if it was… you said Friday that I was a hopeless case. So that means I'd have to go back anyway. Thanks anyway Mr. Nathraichean, but I can't put it off any longer." He sighed resolutely and resumed his packing.

"I should not have said that. You are still a child. Therefore that diagnosis was probably somewhat premature." Severus just couldn't help but sneer lightly at the aggravating child before him, as he watched Harry for the umpteenth time try the same futile thing, as if the outcome would change when the variables did not. Will the boy _never _learn from his mistakes? Hm… where had he just heard that? "You must realize by now that jumper will never fit into your book bag."

"Why not? It did before!" Harry punched it down with frustration, only to have it spring back out again.

"If your mother is anything like my mother was, she probably put a 'wear me' spell on it."

"A 'wear me' spell? What's that?"

"It is a spell that insures that little boys wear their jumpers and stay warm, instead of just stuffing them in their book bags and catching a cold."

"Oh… thanks." Harry said numbly taking it out and putting it on instead.

"Do you mind if I make an observation?"

"I guess not…," maybe an extra pair of socks would fit instead. Maybe even his stuffie! Hopeful he went and got it back out of Holly's crib and crammed it in.

Since Harry stubbornly refused to see himself of any value, to the point that he actually believed that the outcome of an asinine bet with two dim-witted nitwits could forfeit his place in his family. Severus decided to appeal to his desire to do what was right. Surely, that was something he could still understand even in his current overwrought emotional state.

"You said that it is not always easy to do the right thing," he reminded Harry slyly. "Do you believe it is right to take that which is not yours?"

Harry looked up puzzled. "Of course I don't! That's why I can't take Hedwig, she doesn't belong to me."

"And you are packing these trifles to take with you to the Dursleys?"

Harry didn't know what one thing had to do with the other, and he certainly didn't consider his prized possessions to be 'trifles', but he nodded his head anyway.

"When I observed your memories, I heard your aunt and uncle repeatedly remind you that while living under their roof that you owned nothing, including the clothes they allowed you 'borrow' from your cousin. Is that true as well?"

Harry bit back a bitter sob and nodded once again.

"Then following that reasoning, I am led to conclude that the things you are now packing also do not belong to you, as you insist that your guardianship as of today reverted to your relatives, and they do not allow you to possess items of your own. Furthermore, I believe their rightful owners, your parents, will eventually notice these things missing," he said indicating the now crammed bag with a casual wave of his long slim hand. "Have you asked their permission to take any of these items with you?"

Harry hadn't thought of it that way, but Mr. Nathraichean was right. They really weren't his to take, and the fact that he was going to hide them once he got to Privet Drive, so the Dursley's wouldn't even know he had them, proved that he knew it was wrong. But he needed _something _of his family! Regretfully he fingered the velvety antlers that was poking out the top of the bag before he slid his special picture back out and sat down on the bed trembling from shock.

"I wasn't really going to taking_ that_ much … I know they'll forget me soon enough… they did before… but I don't want to ever forget them," he said softly tracing the faces of his family with his fingertip. "Maybe if I just kept the picture it will be alright? … since I took it and all … You won't tell them … will you?"

"Of course I will, you impertinent imp."

"But you can't! You just can't!" Harry pleaded, clutching it to his chest, as if his teacher was about to rip it out of his hands let loose the maniacal laugh of his nightmares.

"Mister Potter, I assure you that I most certainly can, and that I most certainly will. I made a vow to help you. Moreover, I intend to fulfil that vow, if only to save you from petty thievery. It is not my fault if you were rather short-sighted in making no stipulations on what format my help would take."

"But I…!"

"You have no say in the matter."

Still clutching the picture to his heart, Harry sighed deeply, pulled up his legs, put his chin on his knees, effectively protecting the photo from outside forces. His whisper was barely loud enough for Severus' sharp ears to hear. "I never have a say. Nobody ever asks me what I want."

Observing the thoroughly depressed lump of child, he didn't doubt Harry's statement at all. Children are much too easy to just order around and quite often believed to be incapable of rational thought and wise decisions. As such is generally the case, seldom does an adult take the trouble to consider asking them for their opinion. Severus thoughtfully put the tiny owlet down on the bright green coverlet and then watched it tumble head over tail until it landed cosily next to Harry and chirped its thanks. At least one Potter was happy, be it the most diminutive feathered one.

"There is one other thing that I can assure you of Mister Potter - lower lip trembling will get you nowhere with me. Now quit slouching, sit up straight, and take care of that owl. Have you learned nothing from your tutoring sessions?" Harry just glared back at his teacher as he smirked to himself and left the room.

"Merlin! What a bunch of imbeciles you are. I'm surprised your children managed to survive this long without my expertise to guide you." Severus announced snootily coming back into the living room to scathingly address the Marauders, who had scattered the moment the door started to open. They were now all trying to strike nonchalant poses.

"See Sev? You are needed in this family." Lily said with a warm smile on her lips, but with worry still clouding her eyes.

"Hey Snape… what's with number six? 'No hexing of the party of the first part will be permitted by the party of the second part, regardless of how unendurable the party of the second part finds the party of the first part'? What do you mean by that?" Sirius interrupted looking up from the list of terms Severus had left behind with them.

"So sorry, my error," Severus stopped and sneered down his nose at him. "I forgot with whom I would be dealing. I should have refrained from using words over two syllables. Substitute the word 'snarky' for 'unendurable'. I believe that is within your limited vocabulary."

"Hey! I do so know what unendurable means! It means… it means… help me out here Remus..."

"Don't even bother trying Sirius, see?" Remus laughed. "He covered that in number eleven. 'The party of the second part, will at no times, enter into a verbal sparring match with the party of the first part while unarmed'."

"Boys! Never mind that list. It doesn't matter, because you are going to agree with everything on it. What I want to hear is what Sev found out about what is troubling Harry. Why didn't he come out with you? What's wrong Sev?"

Turning to Lily, Severus started out more gently, "Your son in there packing because he foolishly believes…"

"What do you mean he's still packing? Just where does he think he's going? After what we went through to get him back, if he thinks he's going anywhere without us, he's got another think coming." James interrupted angrily as he rushed for the door, only to have Severus push him back.

"Before you go in there, with your usual Gryffindor act-first-think-about-the-consequences later tactics, hadn't you better calm down? Lily asked me to find out what was going on in his pea-sized brain, and I did. Your son told me that no one ever asked him what it was he wanted. Now do you want to know what that is, or not?" Severus sat down priggishly in the big comfy chair and waited patiently for James to respond, his coal black eyes totally unreadable.

"Yes." James admitted grumpily.

"Then if you and Lily will sit down calmly, I will tell you." Severus replied, talking to James as if he were all of two years old. Then glancing appraisingly at the edgy werewolf and the excitable mutt who were hovering on the edges, he sighed, "If the family pets must be here, they may join you too," he invited reluctantly, as he was still uncomfortable with all this 'we're just one big loving family' business. Sirius and Remus bristled a bit at his comments, but their concern over their godson was greater.

He had to stifle a laugh after Lily and the Marauders neatly lined up in a row on the comfy couch facing him. They looked so much like a bunch of dunderhead first years that he was tempted to launch into his speech about bottling fame and brewing glory, but he fought against it, as he knew they would immediately hex him, and four to one were not odds in his favour.

"When I asked Potter… _(ahem)_... '_Harry' ..._ what the matter was, he said that now that it was Easter, and the Dursley's had returned, that you were sending him away."

"But we're not sending him anywhere!" Lily denied vehemently.

"I don't doubt that in the least. Nevertheless, he is quite convinced of it. Therefore, I asked him why he thought that would happen, he said it was because his father had declared all the 'freaky things' should go back to Privet Drive, and that all of you told him that he _was_ 'the freaky thing'. Ergo, he believes that is where he should go and why."

"But we never said that! No one here _ever_ called him a freak!" they all protested.

"Are you sure?" Severus sneered lightly. "I looked at his memories… from his point of view you said exactly that. Not only that, you also proclaimed that if he failed to meet the high requirements you set forth for him, to earn the right to be a member of your family by today, that you…" he paused and locked his eyes directly on James, "…did not want him as a son."

"I _absolutely _never said I that! And I never said he had to earn the right to be a member of this family! Where did he get a crazy idea like that?" James yelled.

"I must disagree, you did."

"No I didn't!" James jumped up protesting.

"Yes, you did."

"DID NOT!"

"Did to."

"Boys! Shut it!" Lily yelled at both of them.

"Didn't." James muttered under his breath and sat back down.

"Did." Severus brushed imaginary lint off his sleeve.

"James I hate to say it, but Sniv… er… Sev here is right. You did say it… sort of. Don't you remember it?" Sirius said thoughtfully, "It was a couple of weeks ago, the Friday afternoon we moved the Dursleys out of here and you got the adoption papers signed. We were all celebrating and kidding around about how they were the ones that were the real freaks, when that was what they always called us. But we never meant for Harry to think we were talking about him."

"Exactly my point mutt. It was not what you _meant_ to say, nor what you _did_ say. It was how he heard it." At hearing his own words, Severus glanced hastily out the big picture window to see if another storm was gathering, and felt a small smile attack his mouth when all he saw through the glass was a bright blue Easter sky. He had always sworn that if he ever agreed with Sirius Black on anything that a lightning bolt would strike him dead. No thunderclouds in sight - still with his luck, it would behove him to remain cautious, as karma had a long memory, and lightning was sometimes known to strike out of clear blue skies.

"But like Sirius said, we were just kidding around! I just said that I was glad the Dursley were finally gone and out of our hair." James said, still not understanding what the problem was.

"But don't you see James? Sev and Sirius are right." Lily said with shock, playing the scene back in her own mind from her son's perspective, "That's not what you said at all. You said was that 'the real freaks were going back to Privet Drive', he must have thought you meant him."

"He couldn't have taken it that way," Sirius scoffed doing a one eighty to defend James, who by this time was holding his head in his hands. "Nearly every wizard who ever came in contact with a muggle had been called that one time or another." Sirius argued, "Why should it upset him? People call me a freak all the time and it doesn't bother me. It just means I'm part of the family. I'm kind of proud of it!"

"You would be," Remus said, kindly patting him on the head. "But we aren't as all thick headed as you. When I was first bitten, I was slightly younger than Harry is now, and after it happened, the village children called me that a lot, and it hurt. You were what fifteen, sixteen before that label was ever flung at you?"

"Older - James and Lily's wedding. Petunia called me a freak and I called her a horse faced bigot, then we both ate cake and toasted the bride and groom." Sirius scratched his chin thoughtfully and then amended his statement with a shrug, "No that isn't quite right - I ate the cake. Petunia ate the head off from the little groom on the top."

Remus gave him a peculiar look and then turned back to James, "You told me once that the Dursley's always called Harry 'the freak'. Growing up and hearing that since he was eighteen months old, had to have left an imprint. If you hear something enough times, it's hard not to believe it."

"But that's not what I meant!" James denied. "I meant that the Dursley's were the real freaks, NOT my son! I would never call him a freak. I love him! What's more, he doesn't have to do a single bloody thing to earn it! He knows that! …doesn't he?" James asked this last question of Severus, only to get frustrated when Severus simply raised an eyebrow in response as if to say 'I told you so'.

"So what is all that business about me not wanting him to be my son anymore? Merlin! We even did a muggle adoption to get muggle legal custody back, even though he was our own flesh and blood. Just to be absolutely sure no one could ever take him away again, no matter what world we lived in, or what name we used. He definitely couldn't have misunderstood about that! He heard the whole thing, and I was quite clear about it. I announced right in front of him that we had finally legally adopted him, and that he was all ours now. I even showed him the papers. I would have thought he'd be happy! NOT packing! Oh Merlin!" James went from red faced to pale in an instant. "Do you think maybe he doesn't want us as parents?"

"We never actually told him we adopted him, did we?" Lily said digging their grave deeper with every word, "You only showed Sirius the papers, and then I-I told him that he wasn't going to be called Harry Krueger anymore. And he's not... he'll be Harry Potter again when we go back to the wizarding world. But I didn't add that part. I thought it, and assumed he knew what I meant, but I didn't say it… he thinks I said I didn't want him… no wonder he won't call me muuuummmmyyyyyy!" Lily started to wail.

"It wasn't all you two, I think I contributed myself," Remus admitted after he finished running through the memories too. "If I'm not mistaken I started the whole thing by vaguely referring to getting rid of unwanted things that were hanging around longer than they should. I never said what the unwanted things were."

"Well, I didn't say anything wrong." Sirius smirked and then frowned, his brow furrowing deeply. "Or did I? Oh… oops!"

"Oops? Oops?" Lily turned on Sirius, "we're talking about my son here! What do you mean by 'Oops'?"

"Er… well… if Harry thought we meant him when we called the Dursley's freaks, then he probably thought the same thing, when we were talking about the egg being the 'TFT', you know… 'the freaky thing'… heh-heh … rabbits laying eggs and all that?"

Lily's glare was making him very uncomfortable.

"…er… anyway…if he _did _think that, then he _might _have _possibly _thought I told him that _you_ said that unless he developed some potential by Easter that we'd stick him back in a cupboard on Privet Drive and let Dursley deal with him. Of course, I meant the egg - if it hatched into something you two didn't think would make a good pet," he qualified. Sirius gulped at their stern stares - might as well get it over with and confess everything. "I _might_ _possibly_ have also have told him he was going to be locked up the rest of his life and raised by dungeon masters…" Sirius said sheepishly looking around the group in dismay. "But of course meant you two, and then only in the very nicest way. He couldn't have possibly thought I meant anyone else… could he?"

"Seeing as he is in there packing all his worldly belongings into his book bag, I would have to say the answer to that is yes," Severus replied dryly. "And regretfully, I must admit to my own culpability to his current state of mind."

"What do you mean Sev?" Lily asked, "You weren't even there that day."

"That is true, but culpable nonetheless. For despite my extraordinary teaching techniques, and even though it is exactly what he wants, I have failed to instil in him the concept of the final vocabulary word."

"Which word was that?" Sirius scoffed back, "Traitor?"

"No – 'Family'," he retorted.

"Okay, that does it." James fumed, jumping up.

"James! Stop! We have to handle this delicately." Lily cried out pulling on his arm to stop him, just to have James shake her off angrily.

"No Lily, you're not going to stop me this time. I've been letting all of you tell me how to relate to my own son for weeks now, and it's not working. Well he's mine too, that means he has half my genes. Did you ever stop to think that maybe he got something from me, besides my amazing hair?"

"Do you mean there's something more to you?" Sev jibed, starting to have a little fun when he finally saw the advantage of the 'we're-one-big-loving-family-and-we'll-love-you-no-matter-how-snarky-you-are' rule.

"A whole lot more! Like my pig-headedness, my stubbornness, and my need to be hit over the head with the facts before I wake up and notice them."

"Ah yes… all the most highly prized Gryffindor qualities, I should have guessed. I did try my best to instil Slytherin values in him, but alas, they just didn't seem to stick." Sev nodded wisely.

"Shut it Sev." James growled.

"Um… Prongs… you're not thinking of hitting Harry over the head, are you? Don't you think there's been enough brain damage around here already?" Sirius ventured with a hint of humour.

"Apparently not Padfoot, now stay out of my way," he ordered as he pulled open Harry's bedroom door and started in.

"James! What are you going to do?" Lily called out anxiously.

"What I should have done right from the beginning. If my son wants to go back to Privet Drive so badly, then that's where I'm bloody well taking him!" James vowed as he slammed the door closed behind him.

"No James!" They all cried out in unison, but by the time they rushed into the room after him, it was empty.

At first, Harry wasn't certain where he was, as he had shut his eyes tightly when things started happening fast. However, when the world stopped swirling around him, and the crushing pressure released so he could breathe again, he knew exactly where he was.

He had been in his room contemplating if he could manage to take his stuffed stag along with his special picture without anyone noticing, when Mr. Krueger pulled open his door and stormed in. He announced that it was time to take him back, and without another word, he pulled him into his arms and all the air was sucked out of his lungs. Harry felt all squished and dizzy for a few moments, and when he opened his eyes again, in front of him was his Aunt Petunia's house, exactly as he had remembered it - only the spring grass was badly in need of its first cutting.

Mr. Krueger let him down on his feet on the pavement, and he swallowed down the big lump of despair that had been growing there. He was grateful that at least he had kept a tight hold of the picture and he hadn't left it behind with everything else. At least he would have something to remember them by during all his lonely days ahead. He sadly looked up at the angry man by his side, but resigned to his fate he bravely squared his shoulders befitting a student of Salazar, and gave him a tentative apology.

"I-I'm sorry Sir."

"What for? Tell me Harry… just what in blazes do you have to be sorry for?" James demanded, sounding eerily like Uncle Vernon when he was in an extremely bad mood.

"Er… the grass needs cutting after all that rain?" Harry offered lamely in return, unsure of what else it could be that was upsetting him so much. Now that Mr. Krueger had accomplished his goal, of getting the last freaky thing out of his home and back to Privet Drive, he should have been happy. Right? "I'll get right on it Sir," he said starting towards the shed in the back garden where the mower was kept.

"The bloody hell you will!" James swore, and grabbing Harry's hand before he could get away, he pulled him relentlessly towards the front door. When he got there, he didn't even ring the bell, but barged in as if he owned the place, dragging Harry in behind him.

"_WHAT ARE YOU FREAKS DOING BACK IN MY HOUSE! THAT WASN'T THE AGREEMENT!" _Uncle Vernon, purple faced and looking as if he was about to have a stroke, started shouting at them the minute they crossed the threshold.

"SHUT IT VERNON, RIGHT NOW!" James threatened dangerously, "Or I'll shut it for you - _permanently_. And this time there is no one here to stop me." When he pointed his wand at Vernon's throat, Petunia gasped and shoved Dudley behind her, and Vernon for once actually shut up.

"Now my dear in-laws, my son and I need to have a little heart to heart chat, and you're in the way, so I need to you leave for a while. But before you do, I have just one more thing to say… Do you remember the hex? The one my friends put on the apple Dudley stole from Harry's lunch?"

The Dursleys stared at him as if he was a raving lunatic perpetrating a home invasion. Any moment they expected the attendants from the asylum to come looking for him.

"Oh come now, you must remember that little incident. From what I heard, Dudley sicked up worms at your dinner party that night to entertain your party guests. Couldn't forget something that abnormal, now could you? It's not as if it was a little boy you left locked and forgotten in a cupboard for days - a dinner party is _much_ more important to you," he sneered sarcastically.

When Petunia and Vernon finally nodded, he continued. "That hex only lasted for ten minutes. Think about that the next time you call my son a freak or even think about blaming him for anything your son does."

The Dursley's gasped as the reality of the alternative explanation hit them.

"NOW LEAVE US ALONE!" he roared at them as they all turned tail and fled to the front garden for safety.

After they were out of the way, James started pulling Harry down the hall.

"No no no! Please! Please Sir! Stop!" Harry sobbed, struggled against the hold James had on him. "At least let me cut the grass first, before you…"

James came to an abrupt stop at the end of hallway and dropped down on his knees, taking the shaking Harry firmly by the shoulders.

"Before I what Son? Before I what? Talk to me…_ please_. Tell me what you're thinking."

"…before you lock me back up in the cupboard." Harry said softly, his head hanging, trying his very best to hold back the tears.

"What cupboard?"

Harry didn't look up but just pointed to where the dark dismal little hole awaited him.

"Look at me son," James demanded. When Harry refused to look up, he lifted his chin until he no longer had a choice but to meet his eyes. "Now tell me again… _what_ cupboard?"

"That one, right over…" as Harry started to point under the stairs, the rest of his words evaporated into dead silence as his gaze followed his own hand. His jaw dropped open in shock.

There was no cupboard.

The wasted space under the stairs was now truly wasted space. It held no shelves, no cupboard, not even a single dust bunny. The slick hardwood floor of the hall that used to end at his cupboard door, now extended all the way to the back wall under the stair. That wall used to be unfinished, he had once taped up a sign on it that read 'Harry's room', but it was now finished to match the hallway wall opposite it. The rough planks of the underneath side of the stairs, that used to rain dust down on him whenever anybody used them, had been finished off and a smooth painted surface ran from the bottom stair to the top.

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding, blinked hard, and looked again. There was still no cupboard, just a small open space under the stair.

"It's… it's not there."

"No it's not Son."

"But I thought…"

"What did you think? Tell me what's going on in that head of yours," James demanded as gently as he could.

"I thought you brought me back here, so Uncle Vernon could lock me up in it," Harry answered softly.

"Harry… Son…" James started roughly, the words catching in his throat until he took Harry's face in his hands and looked searchingly into his eyes. "Did you honestly think that I would rebuild your prison?"

"But… but you said by Easter that I would be back in my old room," Harry tried to explain so that Mr. Krueger would understand.

"Yes that's true, and it happened. I kept my promise. I know haven't been too great at that lately but that is one promise I didn't forget."

"But… but _that_ was my old room."

Finally, a glimmer of understanding got through to James. "That wasn't what I meant Son. I just meant Dudley would go home, and you and Holly would have your room back to yourselves, not that you would be sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs again. Listen to me… that will _never_ happen again."

"It's really gone?" Harry reached out to see if somehow, it was still there but the walls were just invisible. All that his fingers felt was air.

"Yes it's really gone."

"But… but what if after you leave, what if Uncle Vernon puts it back?"

"He can't Son. He doesn't own the house any more. He would have to get permission from the landlord to do that, and I doubt the landlord will give it."

"But… what if he does?"

"He won't."

"_But how can you be sure?"_ Harry leaned in and whispered, just in case his uncle was eavesdropping from the flowerbed.

"_Because I know who owns it."_ James whispered back, leaning in himself until they were forehead to forehead.

"_Who?"_

"_You."_

"Me?" Harry squeaked, his eyes growing big and round in astonishment.

"Thought you'd like that." James smirked and then called out to Vernon, who was indeed trying to eavesdrop from the front porch. "Hey Vernon, better get started on that grass! The landlord says it needs cut, and if you don't do it right now, he's raising your rent!"

With the sound of the push mower whirling to life and the smell of fresh cut grass wafting in, James turned back to Harry in all seriousness again. Harry looked as if he were going into a state of shock.

"How did that happen?" he finally asked.

"How did what happen - your uncle moving his fat arse and cutting the grass, or you coming to own his house?"

"Both."

"He's cutting the grass because it needs done, and because it's part of his lease agreement to keep up the maintenance himself. You own the house because I thought you needed to have a little positive control over something that negatively affected so much of your life."

"But I don't understand - how could it be mine?"

"Do you remember when Dudley was telling us about the 'funny money' that your Aunt and Uncle used to buy him toys?"

Harry nodded his head 'yes'.

"I realized what the 'funny money' really was."

"It wasn't money?"

"Oh it was money all right. It was wizard gold. And it was yours."

"Mine?"

"Yours. All yours."

Harry looked at him in total disbelief - it had to be a prank. He couldn't really mean it!

"You see… when your Mum and I found out we were going to have you, we went to Gringotts and set up a special vault just in case, Merlin forbid, anything were to ever happen to us - so that you would be taken care of. If it did, Gringotts was to send your guardian enough money every month to make sure you never wanted for anything."

"You did that for... me?" Harry asked looking down at his tatty trainers. "So... why...?"

"Why did your relatives dress you in Dudley's hand-me-downs? And why did you want for _everything_?"

Harry nodded again, the lump in his throat preventing any words.

"Don't tell your mum I told you this - but it was because your aunt and uncle are a great pair of arses."

That got a small smile from Harry.

"They were supposed to use that money to take care of you. When I found out they didn't, I was very angry and I wanted to hex them to kingdom come, but Remus came up with a better way of punishing them that would hurt them even more – hitting that greedy pair right in their pocketbook."

Harry smiled a little more at the picture that conjured in his mind.

"I sat down and calculated out just how much of your trust fund they had siphoned off, since the day you were left with them... well okay I didn't - Remus did it for me. But all said and done, with interest, it was enough to have paid for a nice sized home twice over, plus a vacation villa on the beach in Majorca and a château in the Swiss alps."

"That much? But that would be... lots! I wouldn't have needed nearly that much - I'm not that big!" Harry gasped in alarm that anyone would spend that much on him.

"Yes - that much. We thought that you would be going to your godfather Siri, and knowing he doesn't exactly have a head for finances, we wanted to make sure we took care of him too. Anyway, to make a long story short - when we realized what your aunt and uncle had done, your godfathers and I came up with this brilliant idea to 'create' some trust documents of our own. They said that your guardian was under the directive to invest any trust money not spent on your keep and education, into real estate until you turned seventeen or was adopted, and then it was to be turned over to you in whole."

"But how does it make Uncle Vernon's house mine? He wouldn't ever sell it to me! Aunt Petunia would kill him! She's _very_ particular about her house!"

"No, but he did unknowingly sign an extra blank piece of paper when he signed the adoption papers giving us back custody of you. Convenient, huh?"

'_Adoption papers? What adoption papers?' _Harry gave his dad a questioning look.

"We just took the liberty of filling in the blank part above his signature saying that the piece of real estate that they invested the money in was Number Four Privet Drive plus the villa and château. That made it easy to explain where all the 'extra cash' came from to rebuild the house so quickly and to allow them to live above their means for the past nine years – we made it look like it wasn't extra at all, that instead it was Vernon's normal pay from the Grunnings Drill Firm. The papers satisfied the Internal Revenue that Dursley hadn't been hiding undeclared income to avoid paying taxes."

"So it's really mine?"

"Thanks to your Uncle Siri's forging ability, and your Uncle Remmy acting ability to pass himself off as their lawyer. He was able to persuade the court into to accept the documents as genuine. That's why we had to wait until after the full moon to carry out the plan. Even if it were in their best interests, your Aunt and Uncle would have never cooperated if I'd been in the courtroom, but everyone likes Remus. He told the court that he would have brought the papers forward sooner, only he had been suffering a grave illness and had just become aware of their plight. Ha-ha! He didn't even have to act the part there. So as far as the courts go, as long as your Aunt and Uncle don't say any differently it's your house and it will remain that way as long as you want."

"But why would they agree to that even for Uncle Remmy? Aunt Petunia doesn't even allow me to go into the living room!"

"Because it's what got them out of jail, and it's what's going to keep them out."

"So I really really really own their house?"

"Really really really - it was the only thing I could think of. I wanted to make it up to you for all those years you had to spend here, and so that you would never have to worry about it again. Your mum and I were going to save it as surprise for your birthday, maybe put a gigantic red bow on the roof." James smiled at the picture that painted in his mind. "I admit it - your mum wasn't for the bow. That was my idea knowing how attracting all of the neighbour's attention would tick off your Uncle. Oh well - no matter, giving it to you now is better timing anyway. So do you understand now Son? The cupboard is gone and it is never coming back. You will _never_ be locked in it again."

"But… where will I sleep then?" Harry asked confused, refusing to understand the meaning of what he was hearing if it only meant that they were going to rip out his already tattered heart once again.

"In _your_ bed. In _your_ room. In _your_ home. With _your_ family."

"My… my family, Sir?" Harry repeated softly as he looked desperately into James' eyes for any hint of duplicity, any trace of this being a cruel pretence to get his hopes up once again, only to have his dream of a family snatched away.

"Yes son, y_our _family."

"But I thought…"

"What did you think?" James asked much more gently this time.

"That- that you didn't want me. And that the reason you're giving me back to the Dursleys is because I'm not… special enough."

"Harry… Son… I'd sooner give away my arms. I wouldn't need them if I didn't have you to hug. Don't you understand? When you aren't with me…" James' voice caught in his throat and he had to stop completely when Harry reached out to touch a tear that was running down his cheek.

"When I don't know where you are… I can't breathe. When we found you again on Christmas Eve… that was the first deep breath I had taken in years. And I am rather fond of breathing." He smiled at Harry trying to get one in return. "Just as I am rather fond of you," he said touching the tip of his son's nose for emphasis, just in case Harry had the crazy idea he was talking about someone else.

"You are?"

"I am."

"I just wish then…" Harry looked away from those kind eyes. He wanted to, but he just couldn't trust them - he'd fallen for that trick too many times before. _'Why is he making this so hard? Why doesn't he just leave me and go? Why keep drawing it out?'_

"What do you wish?"

"I wish – I wish it was real. But it's not. And I wish – I wish you wouldn't have ever taken me away from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia if you're just going to give me back now." Harry said in a rush of words to get it all out before he lost his nerve.

James flashed on a scene from his teenage years, when he and Sirius had gotten neck deep into trouble during Christmas break from Hogwarts. When his dad had shown up at the muggle police station to bail them out, they had been expecting to be read the riot act. Instead, his dad had just looked him in the eye and told him that he just wished that one day he would have a son exactly like him, and that would be punishment enough.

Turning Harry back to face him again, he looked deep into the eyes of one of the most stubborn, pigheaded, one-track-minded person that he had ever met other than himself, and he knew that his father had gotten his wish.

"I've told you more than once that you are ours now - mine and your mum's. Besides your birth certificate, we also have official muggle adoption papers. So no matter what world we live in, or what name we go by, you are our _real_ son in every way possible to be, and you're stuck with us, and nothing and no one can ever change that."

"You… you have adoption papers? You went to all that trouble?"

"Harry, I would have moved heaven and earth to get you back - even capitulate to your Uncle Vernon's blackmail. I have wanted to be your dad since the moment I knew you were even a possibility. You are what made me want to be a better person - so you would have someone that you would be proud of calling your 'daddy'. You are my first born, you being my son is what made me a dad. To me, that is _very _special. No one else can ever say that,_ ever_. Not Holly, Not the new baby, and not any others who may come along in the future. No one else – just you."

James looked deep into Harry's eyes, but still saw doubt lingering there. It broke his heart that his little boy was so convinced that no one could ever want or love him.

"I know I forgot a few promises to you lately, and because of that you may have felt as if you weren't important to me. But Harry - know this for a fact - the most important job I will ever have is being your father. It's up to me to make sure that you know every day that you are loved, and there is nothing – absolutely nothing more important than that. I'll try not to ever forget another promise, but if I do, it's not because I don't love you. Tell me, since we got you back, has your mum and I_ ever _done _anything_ to make you feel unloved or unwanted?"

"No… not really…" Harry shook his head miserably.

He just didn't know how to explain. He wanted it so badly but he knew that no matter what anyone said, no one would ever really want freaky little him. Too many times in the past, the Dursley had teased him with offers acceptance, to ever really trust in that again. Because whenever he would start to believe it, they would just laugh in his face and call him a freak.

"Did you hear what your mum and I told Severus? That no matter what he said or did in the past, that he's a part of our family. And that no matter what he says or does in the future, we will still love him, whether he likes it or not? Do you believe we meant it?"

Harry nodded - he had been listening from behind his door.

"And do you remember what we told Sirius? That even if you are mad at someone and dislike what he did, that it doesn't mean you kick him out of the family, and stop loving him? Do you believe that too?"

Harry nodded again.

"And do you remember what we told Remus? That he was a part of our family too, and it didn't matter to us that he was a werewolf? And that we aren't afraid of it being a part of him, because we know he would do anything in the world to not hurt us, and that we not only trust him to keep us safe, but we that love him too?"

Harry nodded yet again.

"So you understand that family is more than just a word? It is how we feel about the people we take into our lives? That they can be ill, stupid, or downright snarky, but that doesn't make them any less a part of our family? That it doesn't make them any less deserving of our love?"

A small nod came from Harry, but he still looked uncertain.

"Then why son? Why don't you believe us when we say we love you? Why don't you think you are deserving of it, just like everybody else?"

"Because my godfathers said… they said that…" Harry started but then choked on the words. He didn't want to remind Mr. Krueger that he hadn't managed to gain any potential. What if he changed his mind again?

"Son, I love your godfathers as brothers, but I am the first to admit that at times they are both total idiots, it um… kind of runs in the family, because I am too. Now, I think what we have here is the colossal mother-of-all-misunderstandings, and before you get any idea in that little head of yours that it is in anyway your fault, or that you did anything wrong, let me make it very clear that it is entirely_ my_ fault. It happened because I have been afraid of saying to you what I have wanted to say for months."

"What-what's that?" Harry was almost too scared to ask.

"That I want to be your dad."

"But… why Sir?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you want _me_ as a son?"

"Why wouldn't I?" James turned the question back on him, trying hard not to show his exasperation to the little boy in front of him.

"Be-because I don't have any po-potential. I tried to get some, really I did! I-I tried…"

"But son - you have potential. You have so much potential, that you couldn't possibly fit any more of it inside you without bursting in two and becoming twins. However, even if you didn't have even the smallest glimmer of potential, I wouldn't care, and I wouldn't love you any less. You would still be my son, and I would still be your father. That is, if you will have me. It's your choice…" James paused as through the open front door, he saw the rest of their family finally arriving. Lily, her face pale with worry, led the way up the walk with Holly held tightly in her arms.

Stopping on the threshold, Lily drew in a sharp breath seeing her husband holding their son's distraught tear streaked face in his hands. James had been furious when he left the flat with Harry, but as she looked into her husband's loving eyes now, she knew that somehow everything was finally going to be all right. Still holding Holly in one arm, Lily came in, and with a nod from James, knelt down beside him and put her other arm around his waist in a show of support, giving him all her trust, with Holly reaching out and glomming onto a handful of Harry's hair and trying to stuff it in her mouth. Remus and Sirius joined their circle, only after another gesture from James, coming up behind Harry and putting their hands comfortingly on his shoulders.

Despite James signalling him that he was welcome in their family circle too, Severus hung back in the shadows observing from afar. He wanted no part of the nauseating scene, as he wasn't really into that whole touchy-feely 'family' thing.

"Okay, now that we're all here, I need to ask you a question that is long overdue."

"What Sir?" Harry asked quietly holding his breath again. Having this much attention on him, had never boded well for him in the past.

"Harry… will you consent to be my son?"

"…you…you really want… _me_?" Harry asked dazed, still unsure if what was happening was real or if he even understood what his father was saying. However, his godfather's warm hands on his shoulders, assured him without words that it was indeed real.

"Yes, I want you, and nobody but you. Haven't I been saying that for the past half hour?"

"But… but I thought…"

"You might as well give that up right now. Thinking has never been the Potter males' strong suit..." James put a finger to his lips to shush him, ignoring the derisive snort from Sev in the corner and the answering snicker from Sirius, "… it always gets us into trouble. It's best not to do it at all if you can help it."

"…but what about… M-mummy?" Harry asked shyly glancing her way and taking a leap of faith. Lily's heart leapt with joy when she heard him finally call her that by that precious name.

"Oh Harry, I want you too!"

"But…" Harry started to deny what he was hearing again, and then stopped when he saw her eyes filling with tears.

"But what Son? What is it? What's wrong?" Lily asked him.

"But… what about the new baby?"

"_**New **__baby? Lily's pregnant?"_ Sirius and Remus looked at each other in shock. This was the first they had heard about a new baby! They simultaneously looked at James for confirmation, but he ignored them and totally focused on his son and wife.

"I thought that… that you were making a new son, a better one, one that you could… one that you could raise the whole time, one that you could … that you could love instead of me," Harry finished in a rush of emotion.

"Oh Harry! I love _you_. More than words can ever say. You are my baby, my son, and you will always be my first born, no matter how many children your father and I have. No one else will ever be able to make that claim. Each of you is very special to us, each in your own right. Besides, if it weren't for you, this baby might not even be coming. It was only because we were so happy to have you back in our lives again, that we even created this baby. You are the reason it happened, so you are a part of it too."

"And when he comes, he's is going to need its big brother, every bit as much as Holly does. Somebody has to show them the ropes, and teach them to how to drive their godfathers all mental," James added.

Holly cooed her agreement to this and about toppled out of Lily's arms to give her big brother a wet slobbery baby kiss.

"But I heard you… when you were singing my song, you said I'm not as good as the Holly because Aunt Petunia raised me, so I'm-I'm not really yours."

"Oh sweetie, you misunderstood me," Lily said remembering the whispered conversation between her and James when they thought Harry was sleeping. "I was only sad that I had missed so much of your life up until now, and that I will never have that time back. I won't pretend that I don't regret that, because I do and always will, but that wasn't your fault any more than it was mine, or your fathers. It just happened. I wish that I had every minute of those years back so I could watch you grow into the wonderful boy you are today, but I can't, so I'll just have to make the best of every minute of today and tomorrow and the rest of your life."

"So you don't want to give me back either?"

"Never! Don't you understand? You will _always_ be mine. You always have been, even when we weren't together."

"How could that be?"

"Harry I want you to listen to me very carefully - there is a very special poem by a woman named Fleur Conkling Heylinger, and it's tilted 'The Answer to an Adopted Child'. The child is questioning if the adoptive mother could really love her or him as much as she would her own natural child, and the poem is the answer. How even though the child didn't grow under the mother's heart, they grew in it. Harry - don't you see? You did both."

Lily could see the traces of doubt still in his eyes so she reached out and lifted Harry's hand, and placed it over her own heart so he could feel it beating in her chest. "You grew under my heart for nine precious months like this baby will, but you have been growing in my heart for nine years. You, your Daddy, your sister, the new baby, Remus, Sirius, Sev, and as strange as it may sound – even Dudley and your Aunt Petunia - all of you _are_ my heart. You all possess a piece of it that can never belong to anyone else. And I need all of the parts, every one of them, to keep it beating. You are my family all of you."

Hearing the word 'family' produced a small smile from Harry, but he looked as if he still had questions, and James had one of his own.

"Speaking of families… Severus gave us some wise advice. He said if we wanted to know what was bothering you we should just come right out and ask you, and to quit trying to figure it out for ourselves. So... I want to ask you something and I want a direct answer. Will you give me one?"

Harry nodded shyly.

"Son... why in the world won't you call us 'Dad' and 'Mum' anymore?"

Harry tilted his head, puzzled that he didn't already know the reason since he was the one that told him not too to begin with. "Because Sir… you said I shouldn't get too attached… so I thought that if I didn't call you Daddy and Mummy…that I wouldn't love you so much," he answered truthfully.

"Did it work?"

"No…" Harry admitted in a very small whisper.

That was all James needed to hear.

"So Harry… Son..." James began again after he was finally able to clear the lump out of his throat, "…I'm not as good at words as your mum, and I don't know any poetry lines to quote, but this time we are both asking. If you don't answer 'yes' this time, we'll be force to just keep asking you over and over and over again until we wear you down, and you do. So… _(ahem)_… here goes… Harry James Potter, will you do us the great honour of being our son? …. Please?"

Harry looked deep into his parents' eyes again, and this time he found what he had been searching for, and realized that it had been there all the time. It had been there every time they had tucked him in at night and wished him sweet dreams. Every time they scolded him for doing something he shouldn't have done, and every time they looked disappointed when he didn't do something he should have. Every time they made him sit at the table until he ate at least two bites of his liver and broccoli, and even when his mum had grounded him and his dad swatted him. With every hug, look, thought, and action, it had been there every time – just for him, unconditional and unending love. It wasn't that they were acting like maniacs… they were just acting like loving parents.

"YES!" Harry shouted and threw his arms around his parents' necks in happiness.

"See? I was right." James smirked a little proudly over his son's shoulder at his friends. "He is just too much like me than what's good for him. You just got to knock him over the head with facts until he caves in."

Exchanging looks, Sirius elbowed Remus and nodded toward Severus Snape.

Severus was standing alone in the hallway just inside the door, aloofly studying his fingernails, and trying not to be jealous of the heartfelt scene. They could hear him muttering disparaging remarks under his breath to the potted fern, about how they were all dripping with so much sickening sweet sentimentality that not even the whole dorm of Hufflepuffs would have been able to put up with them without going into a diabetic coma.

Sirius grinned and leaned over to whisper in his friend's ear, _"Looks like Harry isn't the only one who didn't fully grasp the concept of the last vocabulary word. Do you think we should we show him what it means?"_

Remus glanced at Severus and whispered back, "Anything in the terms against it?"

Sirius pulled out Severus' list and gave it the once over and shrugged. "Not that I can see, but then I do have a 'limited vocabulary'. He said so himself, so who knows what half of these really mean."

"I suppose we could always plead ignorance." Remus suggested.

"I don't see anything against that either," Sirius grinned wickedly.

Remus replied with a wicked grin of his own and a 'why not?' shrug, as the two men reached back and pulled the unsuspecting Severus into the family hug with a big _whumpf_ and shouts of _'its tradition!'_ as their excuse for forgiveness.

For the first time in a very, very, long time…

Severus hugged back (even though he categorically denied it later - calling it involuntary muscle spasms).

But whether he did (according to everyone else) or did not (according to him), it really didn't matter (although it did provide a rich source of debate for years to come), because Severus received a gift that Easter that his heart had ceased wishing for years before - a family who accepted him for who he was…snarky disposition and all.

Everything was perfect.

Their little family was complete.

Severus finally had a home.

Best of all…

He had it in writing!

_fin! ~_


End file.
